Mind Over Murder
by lilaclove
Summary: A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department’s only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.
1. The Spirits Say I Should Stalk You

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here is the first chapter, I hope you all like it, and although it isn't all written out yet, it is completely planned.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Chapter 1- The Spirits Say I Should Stalk You**

_1988_

Officer Henry Spencer walked into the kitchen after coming home from work to see his son sitting at the table. Not thinking anything of it, he walked to the cabinet and grabbed a glass. As he was filling it from the tap, he realized something was wrong. Shawn hadn't moved or said a word since he had entered the room. Putting the glass down on the counter, he went and sat next to his son at the table.

"Shawn?" He asked, placing a hand on the twelve year old's shoulder to get his attention.

"Hmm?" Shawn replied unenthusiastically, his stare never leaving the pale wood of the table.

"Hey, look at me." Henry demanded sternly, when Shawn looked up he asked, "What's wrong, kid?"

"It's nothing." Shawn shook his head and turned his body away from his father. "Really."

"If it was nothing, you would be out doing something, not moping around in the house." Henry reasoned, turning his son back to face him.

"Maybe I just find the table fascinating." He replied, looking at it again. "It's really well made you know."

"Just tell me what's going on." Henry insisted gruffly, ignoring his son's attempts to change the subject.

"Well…"Shawn sighed in surrender, before looking up at his dad. "There's this girl and—"

"A girl?" Henry replied his interest piqued.

"Yes, dad, a girl." Shawn responded with an exasperated sigh. "She's the prettiest girl in school, and she doesn't even notice me."

"Have you tried talking to her?" He asked, crossing his arms confindently as if he already knew the answer.

"Yes…err…well kinda." Shawn sputtered, turning red, "I keep chickening out." He continued in a half whisper, his face beet red.

"If you are really that interested in her, Shawn, you'll find a way to talk to her." He told his son, looking him straight in the eyes.

"You think so?" The boy asked, his hazel eyes wide.

"Do I ever say anything I don't mean?" Henry replied, meaning it to be a rhetorical question.

"Well..."Shawn began, looking up at his father mischeviously.

"Shawn." Henry warned, stopping his son before he could comment.

"Of course not dad." He said in an almost sickly sweet tone before he pushed himself away from the table and started to walk towards the phone in the living room to call Gus.

"Hey." Henry called, causing Shawn to turn around, "A bit of advice." He started, making sure his son was paying attention before he continued."Girls are more trouble than they're worth."

Shawn just rolled his eyes in response, and scoffed, "Dad, that's the lamest advice you have ever given me." before walking out of the room.

* * *

_Present Day_

Shawn and Gus walked out of the late October chill and into the hustle and bustle that the Santa Barbra Police Department on a Friday. Both men were wearing jackets, which they took off as they entered the building; it may have been fifty degrees outside, but it was at least seventy inside the station.

"Dude, who was hotter in Saved by the Bell, Tiffani Thiessen or Elizabeth Berkley?" Shawn asked as they cleared the door and the congestion that often surrounded it so close to the weekend.

"Definitely, Tiffani Thiessen." Gus responded after a few seconds of thought.

"I dunno I was always an Elizabeth Berkley kinda guy myself..." Shawn added, but his sentence faded as he heard a commotion at the front desk. Turning to face the noise, Shawn was distracted by what was going on.

"Officer, I'm serious!" A blonde woman cried, slamming her hand on the desk loudly. It echoed in the suddenly silent room like a gunshot, as everyone looked to her in surprise.

"Ma'am, I know that you are distressed, but if you have no proof that this man is stalking you there is nothing we can do about it." The officer replied, speaking in a soft voice to try and calm the woman down. He knew everyone was staring at him, and it was only making matters worse.

"Please, You have to help me!" She sobbed, grabbing the officer's large hand in desperation.

"I wonder what's going on with her." Gus whispered to Shawn.

"The spirits are curious…"Shawn whispered and then continued excitedly, "Let's check it out!" before strolling over to the blonde woman's side.

"Ma'am I am doing all I can, if you will fill out the report, I might be able to do more." The flustered officer tried once again to reason with the woman, but was getting nowhere. Looking over her slender shoulder, he saw Shawn making his way over and sighed with relief.

Shawn closed his eyes and held his index and pointer fingers to his temples once he was a foot away from her. "I sense that you need some help…. the spirits they are trying to contact me…" Shawn spread his arms wide, "stalk her…no I don't want to stalk her!" He cried before pausing, as if he was listening, "oh…not stalk her, stalker!" He concluded in exaggerated realization as he opened his eyes. "You have a stalker, and I can help."

The petite blonde woman only stared in shock at the man beside her, taking a deep shaking breath, she backed away, "It's you, oh god it's you." She mumbled holding her brown leather jacket tighter together.

"Samantha?" Shawn asked in shock as he recognized the woman in front of him, "wait…what?" he asked once what she had said had sunk in. "Do I have something on my face, Gus?" he inquired, looking to his friend as he began to feel around his cheek and nose area.

"You know her?" Gus gasped, ignoring his friend's question, but before the fake psychic could answer, the blonde woman beside them cried out loudly in fright.

"Oh god, it's him officer. The man I was telling you about." She babbled as she leaned across the desk and clutched at the unfortunate officers uniform. "He's the one who's been stalking me…you have to help me!" She yelled, before releasing her grip on the man and backing away slowly until she was against another desk.

"I think I'm missing something here." Shawn announced, as every police officer in the station stared at him in astonishment.

**TBC**

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**Author's Note:** There's the first chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review if you did, and review if you didn't…just tell me what you think :) 


	2. The Boy Who Never Grew Up

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here's the second chapter guys :), I hope you all like it. Oh and by the way I re-edited the first chapter, just to smooth it out a bit (I wrote it at 2:00 A.M…some of my descriptions were a little wonky and or lax), so if you want to check it out, feel free. If not, it doesn't really matter because nothing major changed, a few things are just described better and a few typos are fixed. As for this chapter, sorry it took so long, I went over it like a bazillion times and kept changing it. It hadn't felt right, I think I finally got it down though…so tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

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**Chapter 2- The Boy Who Never Grew Up.**

Shawn felt like he was an ant under a magnifying glass. He was the ant chosen by the mean kid; he was the one that the kid was going to fry. The entire department was staring at him in disbelief even Juliet was speechless. Crossing his arms, Shawn opened his mouth to speak, but another voice did so first.

"Mr. Spencer, in my office, please." Karen Vick called from her office door; it had been open allowing her to hear everything that had been said. Shrugging his shoulders, Shawn complied as quickly as he could to escape the silence of the normally buzzing room. He and Gus reached the inside of her office moments later, Shawn in front and Gus closing the door behind them.

"I believe I said, Mr. Spencer." She said pointedly to Gus as they both took seats in front of her desk. Shawn looked to Gus, who looked back before leaning towards the chief.

"I thought Shawn might need some…assistance." Gus responded, folding his hands in front of him as he leaned back again. The chief looked as if she were about to dismiss him when Shawn sighed loudly, and began taping his fingers on the arm of his chair as if trying to hold something in.

Just as the chief was about to speak, he announced loudly, "Fine, you caught us!" which caused Karen's mouth to drop open in shock. "Gus and I have been magically joined, it happened while we were working on a missing dog case." Shawn explained before sighing. "That's why he followed me in here, chief, he can't be more than four feet from me at any time."

Karen rolled her eyes, but to be honest she was relieved. For a minute Karen had thought he was confessing to the woman's claim, and she had been stunned. She would never have placed him as a stalker, sure he was a little strange, but he had never done anything like that before. Really, if he had confessed, she wouldn't have known what to do.

Gus looked at Shawn in confusion before schooling his features, "That's right, until we can reverse it we'll have to stay in the same room together." Gus played along, figuring he might as well give it a shot.

"Gentlemen, I don't have time for this. You can stay in here, Mr. Guster, but you must realize this is a very serious matter." She replied, realizing it would be useless to try and get them to separate.

"Of course, we understand the seriousness of what happened, but I would like to say right now that Shawn would never stalk someone." Gus continued in a business like manner.

"You know I'd never do something like that, chief. I went out with her once a few weeks ago. I haven't even talked to her since!" Shawn added, for once being completely honest with the woman in front of him. He had briefly thought about having a 'vision', but considering he was the one being accused, he decided against it. The accused normally isn't the most reliable source, and one who claims that 'spirits talk to him' is even less so. He doubted any theatrics would help him at the moment; the 'spirits' would be no use to him right now.

"You must realize that he wouldn't do something like that." Gus continued, leaning forward again. Shawn was about to start pleading his case again when the chief spoke up.

"Gentlemen." She said, placing her palms flat on her desk as she prepared to say what she had brought them in here to hear.

"But—" Shawn tried once again to voice his innocence. He wouldn't know what he would do if she didn't believe him, he knew he wasn't a stalker, and Gus knew, but if Karen didn't believe him it didn't mean anything.

"Shawn, I believe you." She interrupted, smiling slightly when Gus looked surprised…again.

"But, Chief! You have to—"He stopped mid beg, "Wait…you do?" the 'psychic' asked, finally having processed what she said.

"Of course I do Mr. Spencer, you have worked with this department for over a year and you have never done anything to make me doubt you." Karen replied, smiling again.

"Thank God!" Shawn cried loudly before looking to Gus. "Can you believe she did that to us?"

"You normally wait for the person to leave before you say stuff like that." Gus told his friend, but as he turned his eyes to the chief he knew she wasn't mad. Thinking back, he could remember very few times when she had actually been angry with them. Her soft spot for Shawn had paid off in the past, and it was most definitely doing so now.

"Riiiiiiiiiiight." He said, stretching the word out before turning back to the woman with all the power. "What I meant to say was, you are the best chief a psychic police consultant could ask for!"

"Sure you did…back to the matter at hand." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "Even though I believe you, we will still need to look into this, you understand that right?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. How could I not, I mean there's not many people who would believe me right now…she was pretty convincing." He smiled sincerely, glad beyond belief that she didn't think he was some crazy stalker. She may have tolerated his psychic shenanigans most of the time, but she absolutely would not have tolerated that.

"So, chief, what does that mean exactly?" Gus asked worried about what 'looking into this' might entail.

"Well, we'll need a statement, and you'll be watched closely for a few weeks, but overall it isn't anything really." She explained pulling out the proper documents and giving them to the pair.

Shawn groaned dramatically, "Dude…I'm not even a cop and I'm still doing the paper work!" He looked at the forms in his hands dejectedly and slumped in his chair.

"Consider it a bonus." Karen Vick replied, holding back a smile as she stood up. She hoped to god that all of this would pass, and the woman would recant her accusation. Looking at the man slouched in the chair; she knew he couldn't have done what Samantha Caine had said he had.

He was just a big kid; he was a boy that never grew up. He was Santa Barbara's very own Peter Pan, magic and all. She couldn't blame him for trying to stay a kid forever, sure he could have used a little more maturity on occasion, but his antics had helped a lot of people. He was a good person, and a great detective, even if he did act like a child.

He had done what most couldn't, he had gone out into the world and never sacrificed what most people lose when they become adults. Thinking back on everything that she had had to give up since she had 'grown up', she realized that if she had the chance to go back, she would never grow up either.

"I think you should check out the woman." Gus said interrupting Karen's thoughts as he looked over the papers in front of him. "Maybe she's mentally unstable."

"Marble-less?" Shawn asked, loosing his morose mood as he stood up.

"What?" Gus questioned, joining the three in standing. He may have known Shawn for years, but sometimes even he didn't understand him. Gus really wondered if there was anyone out there who could, but considering there probably wasn't he did the best he could.

"Gentlemen…I have things to do." The chief announced, opening her door and ushering them out. As they left the room, Shawn explained.

"Yeah, you know, she lost her marbles." Shawn supplied, a satisfied grin on his face.

"That's terrible!" Gus scolded his friend, as they walked into the main area of the station

"If by terrible you mean super awesome…then yes, yes it is" Shawn responded, smiling irreverently as they sat down in some seats near the wall to fill out the forms. Gus outwardly rolled his eyes as he looked down at the paper, but on the inside he was laughing. Shawn's comment may have been insensitive, but that doesn't mean it wasn't creative.

After five minutes, Shawn asked. "What's the answer to number two?" In a hushed tone as if he were trying to cheat on a test. Not so coincidentally a group of officers walked by just as he said it. When the two nearest to them looked over, Shawn tried to look innocent.

"Portugal." Gus deadpanned, glancing at his friend and the officers passing by.

"Really?" Shawn asked, glancing at the second line of the paper. "When did I change my name to Portugal?" He marveled, looking to his friend in mock confusion.

"The same day you tried to make 'Psychic Appreciation Thursday' a holiday." Gus answered, filling out another line of his paperwork.

"That was a good idea!" He cried, "Psychics around the world would have honored me as their leader."

"Sure and I would have been made the Queen of Spain." Gus replied sarcastically, Shawn becoming leader of the psychics was just as likely as him becoming Queen of Spain. In fact, Shawn becoming leader of the psychics was probably less likely than that.

"Your Highness." Shawn replied with a mock bow, accidentally dropping his papers to the floor.

When Gus went to help him pick them up he realized that only the first page was completed. "Shawn, just do the paperwork." He groaned, and then ignored anything else the 'psychic' may have said.

By the time another ten minutes had passed they were both finished, and had stood up. Seeing Buzz McNabb at the front desk, they went and handed their statements to him.

"So Buzz…" Shawn began, once the officer had collected all of the papers. "What'd she say I did?"

"You know I'm not supposed to release that sort of information." Buzz responded, looking remorseful.

"Come on Buzz!" Gus cried. "We helped save your life!"

"Yeah, without us you might not be here to refuse to tell us what she said." Shawn added quickly in a knowing voice, crossing his arms.

"Yeah!" Gus approved without hesitation, even though he was unsure of what he had just agreed to.

Buzz just stared at the counter after hearing Shawn's reasoning, after a few seconds of trying to decide whether the sentence made sense or not he shook his head and looked up. Shawn would find out anyway even if he didn't tell him, at least this way the psychic would not have to have an episode to do it.

With a sigh, He caved and leaned closer to Shawn. In a low whisper he said, "She claims that after the first date you kept calling her from a payphone out side her house." He paused, taking a look around. "She said it was always at night and that you were threatening to kill her if she refused to see you again."

"That's ridiculous!" Gus cried.

"Like I'd do that." Shawn said loudly at the same time as Gus.

"Shhh…keep it down guys." Buzz pleaded, looking around again to make sure that no one had heard the two.

"We should go Shawn." Gus suggested a moment later, pulling on his friend's sleeve.

"What? Why?" Shawn responded, but just then he saw Juliet and Lassiter walking out of an interrogation room with a sobbing Samantha in tow. "Let's go!" He agreed quickly after grasping what would happen if she saw him again, and rushed towards the door, not even bothering to put his jackets on.

They ran out the door, Gus carrying his heavier suit jacket over his shoulder, and Shawn holding his own decorative patch covered leather jacket over his arm. As they both fled the building, Shawn accidentally bumped into a brown haired woman walking past the station. He murmured a quick "Excuse me." and hurried to Gus's car. Not even stopping to help the woman pick up her glasses like he might have normally done.

Once they were inside the car and away from the station they both sighed in relief.

"That was close." Gus whispered, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, who knows what she would have done if she'd seen me again." Shawn agreed, looking out the window to see the woman he had ran into. She wasn't anywhere to be found, shaking his head he turned back to Gus.

"Yeah…so are we going back to the Psych office?" Gus asked as he turned on his headlights. It was getting darker earlier now, and although he could still see pretty well, he had always been a firm believer in the 'better safe than sorry' philosophy.

Shawn brought a hand up to knead his neck. Feeling the tense muscles he figured that he was more stressed out about Samantha than he had thought he was. "Not today, I think I'm just going to go home, eat some pineapple, and watch re-runs of Three's Company." Shawn responded, looking out the window again to see the falling red and brown. "I just need to relax for a while."

"Sounds like a good idea…your bike is at your apartment right?" Gus asked, turning down a street that would lead him towards Shawn's home.

"Yeah, at least it better be…" He mused looking over at Gus, "Because today has already been weird enough without my motorcycle suddenly disappearing."

"Does it do that often?" Gus asked, turning onto Shawn's street.

"No, not often, but there was this one time…" Shawn stopped and leaned forward as his apartment came into view. "Good it's there!" He rejoiced, grinning at his best friend. In a few seconds Gus had pulled over, and Shawn opened the door. Stepping out into the cool night he closed the door again, but after a moment he turned back to face the car.

He leaned near the door and signaled for Gus to roll the passenger side window down. Once he had done so Shawn asked, "It's your day off tomorrow right?" at Gus's confirmation he continued, "'Kay, well I'll meet you at the office around…let's say 9:30?"

"Sounds good, have a good night." Gus smiled reassuringly, "And don't worry about Samantha, I'm sure it'll blow over."

Shawn nodded and said, "You too." Before starting to walk away, he turned just as he reached his door and called, "See you in the morning." Gus waved and pulled away just as Shawn walked into the building.

* * *

The next morning Shawn and Gus where sitting at their desks in the Psych office doing what they did on many Saturday mornings. Nothing. Shawn was spinning around in his chair, and Gus seemed to be watching the garbage can intently. Suddenly Shawn stopped his spin by slamming his hands on the desk causing the multiple pens on its surface to rattle. First he looked at the desk, seemingly contemplating something, and then he looked to his partner in crime…solving.

"Who do you think would win in a fight Arnold Schwarzenegger or Jean-Claude Van Damme?" He asked seriously with his palms still flat on the desk. Waiting for an answer he stared at his friend intently, his brow furrowed.

Gus, who had already been broken out of his trance by the loud bang, looked to Shawn and responded, "Now or 20 years ago?" Gus asked, "Because, I don't think Governors are suppose to fight people…"

"20 years ago when they were both just action stars." Shawn clarified doing a slow 360 in his office chair as he waited for the answer.

"Schwarzenegger, he is much stronger than Jean-Claude Van Damme." Gus decided and then waited to hear Shawn's opinion.

"Arnold may be stronger, but Van Damme is faster and he knows all that crazy kick boxing stuff." He informed his friend, spinning once again.

"True…plus he has one of the best angry faces I have ever seen." Gus nodded, seeing his friends reasoning just as there was a knock on the door. Shawn jumped up from his still spinning chair in excitement while Gus turned to look at the entrance to their office.

"I'll get it!" Shawn yelled as he ran for the door. Skidding to a halt he opened it to find Lassiter and Juliet about ready to knock again.

Lassiter put his still raised hand down, and greeted flatly, "Spencer."

"Lass! Jules! Do you guys have a case for us?" He asked enthusiastically opening the door wider to let them in. As they walked in he saw the police cruiser over their shoulders. Shrugging, he turned around to face them as he closed the door.

"Yes, actually." Detective Lassiter replied pulling out his handcuffs and grabbing Shawn's forearm. "Shawn Spencer you are under arrest for the murder of Samantha Caine."

"What?" Gus cried, jumping up from his chair. "You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry Shawn." Juliet whispered sincerely as her partner cuffed him. Shawn looked at her in confusion before it dawned on him. Smiling he looked to Lassiter behind him.

"Very funny." Shawn half laughed, looking to each of them in turn. "Okay guys…you got me…so which one of you thought this up?"

"I don't think they're kidding." Gus replied mournfully, coming to stand next to his now stunned friend. Placing a hand on Shawn's should he looked at both of the detectives and said, "You know he didn't do this."

"Lassie, you know me." Shawn pleaded finally able to speak again, "You can't really think I did this…can you?" He asked, wishing that the man in front of him, the man he considered a friend, would just say 'no'.

"Spencer, Samantha Caine was found murdered at her apartment early this morning, due to her accusation yesterday and evidence found at the crime scene, you have been implicated in her death." Lassiter replied mournfully. Shawn Spencer may have annoyed him, and he may have driven him insane on more than a few occasions, but he would have never thought him to be a murderer.

Even if Spencer wasn't really psychic, he had still helped a lot of people, and Carlton knew that if he ever needed help the man before him would provide it. The detective also knew Shawn couldn't possibly be the murderer, but the evidence was almost infallible. He swore that if he could help the 'psychic' he would. No one deserved to be falsely accused, especially a man who had made it his life to help the falsely accused.

"I didn't do it, I didn't murder her." He said to Lassiter before turning to Juliet, a pleading tone in his voice, "Jules, I'm not a murderer."

"I'm really sorry, Shawn…but you have to come with us." She replied, leading him to the police car. Juliet wished she were anywhere but here. She would have preferred to be jumping out of a plane without a parachute, or swimming in Parana infested water. She couldn't understand how Shawn could have killed Samantha Caine. Sure the evidence added up, but he had always been the one to disprove evidence. He had always defied the odds and caught the bad guy.

Now he was the bad guy, and all he could do was stand beside the police cruiser. Juliet had never thought the day would come when Shawn Spencer would be silent, but now, as he labeled as a murderer, he was completely silent. She would have done anything to here him crack a joke, or have a vision right now. She would do anything to prove he hadn't done this; he wasn't a murderer. She knew he wasn't a murder.

"Shawn!" Gus said from the doorway before Shawn was placed into the car. "I'll get you out of this, I promise." Shawn only nodded and allowed the officers to put him in the back seat. Once Juliet was in the car, Lassiter turned back to Gus.

"Follow us to the station." He stated shortly before going to the driver's side and getting in. Soon the car was started and the three where on their way, leaving a miserable and confused Gus behind them.

He stood in the doorway of Psych completely stunned by what had happened. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and walked back inside. Grabbing his keys and coat, he was about to leave when he stopped in the middle of the room. It had suddenly occurred to him that Psych might never help anyone every again. If Shawn were convicted, this would all be over. No more cases, no more vision, only Shawn in a cell.

Trying to memorize everything the way it was, he looked around the room, wishing, for what might have been the millionth time since they met, that he had Shawn's memory. Shawn didn't realize how lucky he was sometimes, Gus had wished so often that he could remember like his friend could. Now was one of those times. He tried to take a mental picture of the walls, the floor, the chairs, everything just as it was.

Even the mugs on the counter which he had scolded Shawn yesterday for leaving around, the garbage can that Shawn had filled with wadded paper free throws, and the pens on his desk. Pens on the desk that had rattled only minuets ago as Shawn had pondered which action star would win in a fight. Shaking his head he turned off the light and walked out, locking the door behind him. With one last look at the strikingly green writing on the window, he walked to his car and drove away, hoping that he could live up to his promise.

**TBC**

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**Author's Note: **Well folks, I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. Please review and tell me what you thought even if you didn't. :D 


	3. I am a Purple People Eater

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here is the third chapter :); I hope you guys are all enjoying this so far. I would like to say that the opening flash back was edited to make Henry a little more in character. I would like to thank Edme McCormic who reviewed on for giving me the heads up and then looking it over when I was finished. Thank you!!!!!!! As for this chapter I hope you guys enjoy it…and please review :D

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

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**Chapter 3- I am a Purple People Eater…**

"But I'm a Lover not a Fighter!" was the first thing that Gus heard as he entered the station. He recognized the voice as Shawn's and knew it was coming from one of the interrogation rooms in the other end of the building.

Gus smiled and began to walk towards the doors, he didn't know which one Shawn was in, but his friends remarks would probably lead him straight there. When he was about halfway to the doors he heard his friend's half-desperate voice say, "Seriously Lassie, would this face lie." He was about to take another step when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Turning swiftly around he was met with a pair of sad blue eyes.

"I'm sorry Gus, but you can't go in there right now." Karen Vick informed him, her face mournful. She wished more than anything that it was another perp in that room, that there was another man behind that door trying to vehemently deny what the evidence pointed to.

"I have to see him! You know he didn't do this!" Gus shouted, shrugging her hand off his shoulder and staring at her combatively. Nothing was going to stop him from helping Shawn, not the chief, not Lassiter, not even Shawn himself. He had promised that he would get the man behind the door out of this and he would, if it was the last thing he did.

"I don't want to believe it…but all the evidence we have points to him." She sighed closing her eyes and lowering her still raised hand. Opening them again, she stared into the unyielding eyes of her friend and colleague.

"Karen," Gus paused, calming down as best he could before looking her straight in the eyes. "Shawn isn't a murderer."

"I want to believe that." She agreed staring back, "But so far we don't even have enough to say that there's reasonable doubt in his favor."

"Shawn will figure it out, he just has to see the crime scene." Gus thought aloud staring past the chief. After a few seconds he flicked his eyes back to her. "How much is bail?"

"There is no bail." Karen sighed closing her eyes in preparation for what she knew was coming. She knew he wouldn't take the news quietly, if she were him she wouldn't have either. Honestly she couldn't blame him, so she just accepted it and prepared ahead of time

"WHAT?" Gus yelled incredulously, not believing his ears. How could they not be letting Shawn out on bail? He was a consultant for the police for Christ's sake! How could anyone think he was a murder?

"The judge won't allow bail because he is being charged with first degree murder." The chief informed him, switching into business mode. She couldn't let her emotions get the best of her right now, even if it was Shawn Spencer she was talking about.

"You know he isn't a murder, can't you do something?" Gus asked angrily crossing his arms. The woman before him knew absolutely, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Shawn wasn't a murderer, and yet she was doing nothing. Interim Chief Karen Vick had run this department for over a year, Gus couldn't think of a reason why she couldn't use a few favors to help the 'psychic' out.

"I've tried to pull some stings, but Caine's claim made him seem unstable, and no judge will allow an unstable murder out on bail." She explained, keeping her cool. After pausing for thought she continued, "Unless, of course, they want to find a new job." Karen started to walk towards Shawn's room with Gus following close behind.

"Isn't there anything I can do?" Gus asked turning towards desperation once anger had gotten him nowhere. He trailed only a few steps behind the woman as she walked towards his destination.

"I'm not sure." She stated simply over her shoulder. A moment later she reached the door, put her hand on the knob, and said, "But I'll do what I can." Opening the door she smiled sadly, "You can see him for a minute."

"Thank you." Gus said sincerely before walking in. Shawn was sitting at the table, the epitome of frustration and hopelessness. With his elbows on the table, and his hands fisted in his hair, he seemed to have given up his case. The two detectives stood at the other end of the room, across the table from Shawn.

Juliet seemed despondent, her eyes were downcast and her normally straight shoulders were hunched as if the weight of the world rested on them. Lassiter was leaned against the wall, his eyes were cold and his mouth was set in a thin, grim line. He shifted every few seconds as if the room was closing in and he needed to feel the space while it was still there.

Gus stepped in front of the two detectives and looked them both in the eyes; silently pleading for them to just give him five minutes. Lassiter nodded almost unnoticeably and walked out; Juliet looked one last time to the distraught man at the table before turning away and following. Once the door closed, and the lock was heard being slid into place, Gus turned back to his friend and proceeded to pull a chair up next to him.

"Shawn? Are you okay?" Gus asked softly, waiting for his friend to respond. At first it seemed like he wasn't going to answer, but after a few beats Shawn's scratchy voice broke the silence.

"Hey." He replied, lifting his head and gazing into Gus's brown eyes with his hazel ones. Shawn tried to convey his gratitude through his eyes; he hadn't realized how much he was hoping Gus would keep his word until he saw him sitting in the chair beside him. He knew Gus would always believe him, no matter what. Shawn could claim he was the purple people eater and Gus would suspend his disbelief until he had proof that his friend wasn't a mauve man muncher.

Shawn's hair was sticking up in every which way as if it were a mad scientist wig, if he wasn't being held for murder at the moment, Gus may have found it funny. The room was filled with silence until Shawn placed his palms on the table and pushed himself into a full sitting position.

"It's been one Hell of a day." He groaned in a semi response to Gus's earlier question.

"Come on, Everyone's got to be accused of murder at least once." Gus half-smiled trying to lighten the mood, "You're just getting it over with now when you're not guilty."

"Yeah and next time, when I really do murder someone I can get off Scott-free." He grinned, falling back into his usual humor despite the current situation. Looking around the barren walls of his temporary prison, he inquired hopefully, "So how about getting me out of here? I mean I really do enjoy spending time with Lassie and Jules…but I think I've seen enough of interrogation room number one to last me a lifetime."

"The judge won't set bail." Gus informed his friend, solemnly, inwardly sighing as Shawn lost his smile. "They won't let you out because of the charges."

"How am I suppose to prove myself innocent if I can't get out?" He asked seriously, abruptly standing up and begining to pace the room. He walked the back of the room quickly, going about 2 yards in one direction before turning around and doing the same thing in the opposite one. If he had done it long enough he probably could have worn a hole in the floor and escaped, unfortunately Gus spoke first.

"I'll get you out of here, Shawn." Gus promised, joining his friend in standing.

"But when?" Shawn snapped stopping in front of his friend, "Sorry…"He mumbled soon after, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "I can't just sit here and do nothing." Shawn continued, opening his eyes and staring pleadingly into those of his friend.

"Soon, I promise." Gus reassured his friend, just as a knock was heard at the door. He placed a hand on Shawn's shoulder briefly, before turning towards the door.

"Mr. Guster, your times up." The chief said through the door, her voice muffled. They both heard the slide of the key in the lock, and knew that Gus could now leave the room.

"I'm going to go talk to that Judge." Gus promised as he made his way to the door. Pausing once he had reached it, he turned back and smiled before turning the handle and walking out.

Shawn went back to his chair and collapsed into it, placing his head in his hands he whispered, "Hurry." just as his friend closed the door separating him from the rest of the world. The rest of the world was spinning while he was stuck in here twiddling his thumbs. The most important case of his career was going on, and he couldn't investigate it because it was his own.

Rubbing his temples, Shawn tried to ease his turbulent mind. He couldn't figure out who had done this, or why. Either Samantha had been in on it, or whoever killed her had just seen the opportunity and jumped at it. She had seemed so perfect for him at the time; smart, funny, beautiful, she had it all. He had been in the store about a month ago and had run into her while he had been looking for pop-tarts at the store.

* * *

_One month Ago_

"Pop tarts." Shawn mumbled as he went over his mental list. It was the last thing he needed and so he was on his way to the Cereal Aisle. Reaching the isle that would normally hold breakfast type foods, he noticed that it instead held rakes, rocks, and roses. Oddly enough the rest of the Gardening Section had stayed where it was, only this single area had been placed with in the food region.

Maybe they thought that placing gardening supplies in the breakfast aisle would cause more people to buy rakes, or maybe they just like confusing the Hell out of their customers. Shawn guessed the second one. In fact he bet that they held competitions to see who could confuse the most customers. Obviously the guy who thought up this ingenious placement had won by a long shot.

Finding one of the previously mentioned, blue-vested, teenage workers Shawn sprinted towards him and skidded to a halt. The boy looked startled, but the 'psychic' just waved away the question he was about to ask. "If I were Pop-Tarts where would I be?" Shawn inquired ignoring the look of confusion he received.

"Uh…Aisle three in the south end of the store." The teen responded, his voice cracking in the way that Shawn remembered not so fondly. Raising his hand Shawn waited to give the guy a high five, the worker raised his hand in confusion and Shawn hit it, once again puzzling the teen before he ran to the other end of the store.

Shawn spotted the notorious cereal aisle soon after reaching the south end. Jogging towards the aisle that was now placed in Electronics, Shawn finally reached his destination. He began to scour the aisle for the illusive toaster pastries as he walked. He would take a few steps, and stop, take another few and stop again. He searched the shelves one by one. Finally after three minutes of searching he had found his prize.

"Finally!" He yelled as he jumped up and down in excitement. While quickly bending down to grab the box his head hit something hard, and a loud clatter followed. Raising his hand to his now sore head he stood up and saw a beautiful blonde woman on the tile floor. She too had her hand to her head, the loud clatter had been her small grocery basket and purse falling to the floor and scattering their contents.

"I know Pop-Tarts are exciting, but I think nearly killing me is a little much." She smiled, taking the hand he offered and pulling herself to her feet.

"I am so sorry. I didn't see you, and I've been searching for this devious box of Pop-Tarts for the past half hour." Shawn explained, bending down to help her pick up her things when she knelt down to do so. He put a pair of reading glasses back into her purse, and saw two books still inside the bag. He also noticed that there was a checkbook bearing the name 'Samantha Caine', and that there were at least a dozen movie stubs at the bottom of her purse.

"I understand. I've been running all over the store looking for them. Can you believe that they switched they moved the Cereal Aisle to Electronics and one of the Gardening aisle to where the Cereal Aisle was?" She asked as they finished putting the stuff back where it belonged, and both stood up again.

"I know! I mean Pop-Tarts may be flat and kind of hard but even so I don't think they belong with the VHS Tapes." He responded smiling. A minute later he held out his hand, "I'm Shawn by the way."

She grasped his hand and shook it, "I'm—"

"Samantha Caine. " He responded smiling at her shock, "I'm a psychic for the Santa Barbara Police Department."

"Psychic? How do I know you're not stalkin' me or somethin'?" She asked shocked but still slightly amused. Shawn noticed that for a moment she had seemed to have an accent of some sort, maybe Brooklyn.

"If I were stalking you I wouldn't have run into you." He replied, grabbing two boxes of Pop-Tarts from the shelf and adding one to each of their baskets.

"You could just be a really bad stalker." She laughed holding her now toaster pastry carrying basket by her side.

"How can I prove to you that I'm psychic?" He asked rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

"Tell me something else." She retorted playfully setting her basket down and crossing her arms in front of her.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I accept." He closed his eyes holding his fingers to his temples. He thought for a moment piecing everything he had learned about her together.

He remembered her slight Brooklyn accent after he surprised her; he remembered the glasses and the books. Concentrating harder he remembered the titles, Pride and Prejudice written by Jane Austen, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. He remembered the ticket stubs; he knew each and every movie she had seen in the last six months. Opening his eyes he gestured widely and smiled disarmingly.

"Well?" She asked her voice disbelieving.

"You Miss. Caine have spent the majority of your life Brooklyn. You enjoy reading very much. Your favorite genre is classic Romance, and although I have never read Pride and Prejudice I hear it is the best romance novel of all time." He paused and closed his eyes as if he was summoning the spirits once again. "Surprisingly enough you also love to watch movies, the most recent being Live Free or Die Hard." He paused again and looked at her, "Speaking of which I will have to ask you for your opinion on that later."

"How did you know all that?" She asked her hand in front of her mouth, "Wait…later?" She asked in confusion once the end of his sentence had been processed.

"Well to answer your first question, the spirits tell me all sorts of things when I ask nicely. As for the second, they kindly informed me that you would give me your number." He smiled and held out his hand. "You don't want to change the future do you?" He asked, and smiled. She just laughed in response, having gotten over her shock. Pulling a pen out of her purse she wrote her number down on his hand.

"Who knows what kind of consequences that would have." She said in explanation of giving in and then laughed. "See you later, Shawn."

* * *

Shawn snapped back to the present as the door opened, lifting his head to look at the intruder, he recognized Juliet. Smiling he said, "You're the only girl for me Jules." 

"Flattery will get you everywhere." She smiled, but it didn't reach her sad eyes. Sitting down next to him she said, "The evidence looks really bad."

"I know, Jules, I know." He sighed looking to the table. "If only I could get out of here, if I could see the scene maybe I could…" He sighed again and looked up at her. "Isn't there any way you can get me out?"

"I wish I could, Shawn, I really do." She looked towards the door in thought, and then stood up. "I need to go talk to Carlton. I'll be right back." She had an idea, and despite how against the rules and illegal it probably was, she knew it was his only chance. There was no way that the judge was going to let him out on bail, and she knew that he was the only one who could prove his innocence.

Shawn dropped his head on the table and waited, what seemed like hours later, Lassiter walked into the room with Juliet following behind him.

"Hey Lassie-face, what's up?" Shawn asked pulling his head up from the table to stare at the two.

"Don't say I never did anything for you, Spencer." He responded softly facing away from the camera in the room. Shawn furrowed his brows in confusion when a moment later he asked, "Where were you Friday night, Mr. Spence?"

"What?" The fake Psychic asked in confusion as he sat straighter in his chair. Maybe Lassie had finally lost it, he had always thought the guy was wound a little too tight. Juliet sat next to him on his left also, which meant she was also facing away from the camera. A moment latter she started to speak quietly.

"The door will be unlocked after we leave, no one else knows about this." She said softly while Lassiter paced around the room. When it looked like Shawn was about to reply she said, "Don't respond to anything I say."

"The chief" Shawn mouthed as he turned away from the camera and scratched his ear. Lassiter, who could see Shawn's lips as he turned to the right, relayed the message to Juliet. A moment later Lassiter made a gesture with his hands near his sides in exasperation. A few beats later Shawn caught on and announced noisily, "I was at home, watching Threes Company. There was a marathon you know.

"No, we don't want to risk her job like that." Juliet responded quickly before continuing in a louder voice, "Can anyone verify your whereabouts?"

"No, I was alone, but you have to believe me I didn't do it!" Shawn played along, waiting for more information, which Juliet soon provided.

"Once we leave you get out of here as fast as you can. Try not to be seen. We are going to try and convince everyone that you picked the lock." She explained in a low whisper.

"Our beliefs have nothing to do with this Spencer, the evidence speaks for itself." Lassiter interrupted loudly as he paced towards the camera. A moment latter he paced away from the camera and continued softly, "We will try and distract at least some of the officers so that you can get out easier."

"I didn't do it, I was framed." Shawn added loudly to fill in his speaking part in their little game

"We don't know how else to help you, Shawn. Just figure out who did it okay?" Juliet pleaded almost silently before saying loudly again, "So far, everything points to you. There is no evidence of a third party."

"Obviously they did a good job then!" Shawn cried before mouthing a silent 'thank you' as he itched the side of his face that faced the camera.

"Spencer, you should just confess. This is getting you no where." Lassiter responded firmly. A second later he whispered, "Don't screw up." as he ran a hand over his face in what seemed to be frustration.

"This is getting us no where Carlton, we should come back latter." Juliet interrupted suddenly, standing up from her chair beside Shawn.

Lassiter nodded in agreement before scowling, "We'll be back later, Spencer." as he left the room. Leaving the door partially open for Juliet.

"Good luck." She whispered as she ran a hand through her hair dropping a bobby pin onto the floor inconspicuously. Stepping out of the room she closed the door behind her, and conveniently forgot to unlock it as she walked away.

They were going to help him; they were going to get him out. Lassie and Jules where risking their jobs so that he could prove himself innocent. He walked over to the door as if he was pacing, walking back and forth again. Looking down at his shoe he pretended that it had come untied and bent down to tie it.

Picking up the pin so that the camera couldn't see. He put his hand into his pocket as if he was pulling it out. At least this way it looked like he had had the pin the entire time and Juliet wouldn't be at fault. He waited until he heard a loud crash, and what could have only been Lassiter's voice cursing up a storm, to place it in the lock and wiggled it back and forth as if he were picking it.

Standing up he 'accidentally' dropped the pin when he tried to put it back in his pocket, and opened the door quietly. He looked out for a brief moment before he stepped out. Then moving along in the shadows adorning the room, he tried to make his way across the station unnoticed.

Shawn saw how Lassiter had distracted the cops as he neared the middle of the room. The detective had run into a desk that had had stacks upon stacks of files on it, this desk has caused him to fall to the floor 'tripping' another officer. The papers and folders that had fallen off had then caused Juliet to 'slip'; as she went down she 'accidentally' grabbed another officer in her flailing attempt to right herself.

The resulting mess caused nearly the entire station to try and help the group. Some were picking up papers, while others where helping up the officers. Shawn had made it across the entire station without being seen thanks to their distraction, just as he was leaving the building he bumped into an officer entering. The man recognized him and Shawn cringed. He had been so close to getting away unnoticed. Pushing past the man Shawn raced down the steps and into the brisk October afternoon.

He could hear the officer calling "Shawn Spencer just escaped!" breathlessly into the station behind him.

Shawn didn't wait for them to follow, he ran down the street as fast as he could. He could hear a few of the quicker officers behind him, but they were far off. They wouldn't catch him. Suddenly a loud bang and a searing pain in his side nearly brought him to his knees.

Shawn staggered, holding onto his right side as he tried to stand up straight. Blinking away the blackness the abrupt pain caused, he surged upright. Trying to jog again, the resulting pain nearly caused him to pass out. Seeing an alley he struggled into it. Once he reached the safety of its walls, he pulled his hand away from his shirt and saw that it was coated in crimson. They had shot him. They had really shot him. Feeling the sticky warmth traveling down his stomach and back he realized it had gone straight through.

Shaking his head, he held his hand to his side again, staggering down the alley he tried to keep going. He couldn't let the cops get him. He had to get to Psych and get his bike, and then he would go to Gus. Gus would help him. Gus always helped him, and he had promised he would get him out of this.

Going as fast as he could, the fake psychic managed a limping, staggering, half-run. Each breath burned as he lurched along. The pain was immense. It felt as if he had been impaled with a hot poker, and that whoever did it had just left it in there. He suddenly felt light headed. The world was spinning; he had to stop. Pausing to try and halt the world's tilting, Shawn sagged against the cold, brick wall. Listening carefully he realized the police were no longer following him. He must have lost them in the alleys. Truth be told he had lost himself in the alleys, he wasn't even sure where he was anymore.

Once the world had stopped wavering before his eyes he struggled towards the end of the darkened side street he was in. Peering out at the street sign, Shawn read Oak Terrace; at least he was going in the right direction. Going back towards the other end of the alley he followed the conjoining one in the direction of Psych. Each step sent ripples of pain through his pierced side. He could feel the blood covering his hand and gluing his clothes to his torso. Even at this pace he could barely breath because of the pain each inhale caused.

Leaning against the wall, he once again blinked back the blackness. He couldn't pass out. He had to get to Gus. Staggering a few more feet he realized that he had made it to the block Psych was on. He heaved a huge sigh of relief, which turned out to be a mistake as it caused his bullet wound to flare with pain. Shawn doubled over grasping his middle, but in only increased the pain in his back. Leaning against the wall again, he tried to catch his breath. A minute latter he pushed away from the brick and stumbled towards Psych.

Seeing his bike, he climbed onto it with much difficulty, and just sat there. Shawn Spencer knew this was really dumb, he knew that he could pass out while driving and crash, or become light headed and fall off, but he also knew that he had to get to Gus and if he didn't he was going to get caught.

When he thought about it he knew for a fact that he probably wasn't thinking very clearly at the moment, but how many people really would be in his situation, Shawn reasoned. Shrugging internally, because he knew doing so outwardly would hurt, he started the bike. Driving towards Gus's apartment had been painful and difficult, but he had made it halfway there before his vision started to waiver. Blinking heavily he forced himself to focus; he had to focus. He used everything his dad had ever taught him to concentrate.

He wondered if his dad knew yet, and if Gus had told him. Maybe he had just heard it on the news; he could imagine his dad freaking out if that happened. He almost laughed, his dad was going to kill him when this was over…if he wasn't already dead. The blaring of a horn drew him from his thoughts and he saw a red sports car squealing towards him as it tried to stop.

Turning the bike sharply he managed to make it back onto his side of the rode before being smashed by the car in the other lane. Blinking again, he scolded himself on the inside, He had zoned out once and it had almost killed him. It couldn't happen again, he needed a way to stay alert. The vibrations of the bike were causing his side to buzz with pain, and at first he considered it a distraction, but then he realized that he could use it to his advantage.

The dull burning ache kept his mind aware as he traversed the last few blocks to his friend's apartment. Every time his mind started to drift he would shift, causing a wave of pain to slam into his body. It really hurt, but it woke him up, it stopped him from falling asleep.

Finally after what seemed like hours of grueling travel, he was there. Parking the bike with difficulty, he tried to get off it, but the unconsciousness that he had been keeping at bay suddenly rushed towards him. Falling sideways off the bike and onto the cool ground, he laid there, his bleeding side screaming at him, but he couldn't move. Looking to Gus's apartment he whispered, "Gus." before the darkness closed in.

**TBC**

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review whether you did or didn't and tell my why you felt however it is you felt. :) The next chapter should be out in 3-5 days just like usual :) 


	4. Gus is the Amish Woman

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here is the fourth chapter; I hope you all enjoy it. Sorry about the delay, but school, the local fair, and other distractions stopped me from writing this earlier.

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

* * *

**Chapter 4-Gus is the Amish Woman**

Gus pulled up to his apartment and got out of his car, lost in thought. He had been unable to convince the judge to let Shawn go on bail, so he had come home to try and find someone who could help him. Walking closer to the door, he paused.

Had he just saw what he thought he had seen? Turning around quickly, he looked right in front of his car, and saw Shawn's motorcycle. Next to the bike laid the form on a man that looked suspiciously like his best friend. He stood stock still for a moment not sure of what he was seeing, but the stark red of the blood on the pavement shocked him into motion.

"Shawn!" He shouted as he ran the few feet to his friend's side. Falling to his knees beside the man he sat frozen, but soon his common sense kicked in and he put two fingers to his friend's neck. Shawn couldn't be dead; he couldn't be dead. The slow but steady beat of Shawn's pulse beneath his fingers sent a jolt of relief running through him. Slowly turning his friend over, he rolled him so he was flat on his back. The movement caused a load groan to emit from the previously unresponsive lump before him.

Looking his friend over, Gus saw the now trickling blood on his side, but the blood on the pavement, and that on the cloth around the wound told that it had just slowed down recently. "Shawn?" He asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "This is going to hurt, but I have to get you inside." A muffled groan was the only response he received, so he took it as a "Go ahead Gus!" and put an arm around his friends shoulder.

Shawn groaned again, his body tensing, and his eyes opening to slits. "Gus?" He asked, his vision hazy and his voice scratchy. He wasn't really sure what was going on, but he knew whatever it was hurt a lot, and that Gus was there.

"Come on, Shawn, we're going inside." Gus replied almost frantically as he began lifting the wounded man to his feet. It was tough, but after about a minute of struggling, he had pulled Shawn up. Unfortunately, about halfway to his feet, Shawn had passed out again, leaving Gus to go the rest of the way on his own. Looking around, Gus made sure no one was coming, and dragged his friend to the door of his apartment.

He looked back at the blood on the pavement, and marveled that no one had seen Shawn there. His street wasn't necessarily busy, but it must have been Shawn's luck that had allowed him to not be picked up by the cops yet. Opening his door, he pulled his friend inside and closed it. He would clean up the blood later, right now he had to clean up Shawn.

* * *

Henry Spencer set his tackle box and fishing pole on the ground and reached into his pocket. Pulling out his keys, he unlocked the door and grabbed the items off the wooden planks of the porch. Walking through the door, he kicked it shut with his foot before moving into the kitchen. 

He placed the green box on the table and leaned the pole against the wooden chair. Continuing into the living room, he turned on the television and flipped it to channel three. Entering the kitchen once more, he opened the freezer and pulled out a few steaks.

"I'll invite Shawn over, maybe I can get him to help me re-shingle the roof." He thought as he set them on the counter to de-thaw. Grabbing his portable phone off the counter, he began punching in Shawn's number as he went to go sit in the living room.

"An important broadcast will now interrupt your usual programming." Blinked across the screen before the local news station logo showed up. A woman soon followed her company's symbol, and she smiled disarmingly at the camera. Pausing in his dialing, Henry grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

"Early this morning a woman was murdered in her downtown Santa Barbara apartment. The victim, a Miss Samantha Caine, was found strangled to death with her assailant's leather belt." She paused taking a breath, and smiling for the world. Henry turned back to the phone and started to press the rest of his son's number. The world may have been falling apart, but so was his roof. He wasn't a cop anymore, this wasn't his problem, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself.

Despite not wanting to care, he truly did. Many of the officers said 'Once a cop, always a cop', and they were right. You never could stop listening to the news reports and the scanners. A part of you would always want to jump in your car and drive to the nearest bank robbery or crime scene. He knew he couldn't tune it out, but he always tried anyways. He had a son to call, dinner to make, and a roof to fix. Another dead woman was none of his business.

"Shawn Spencer," She began, causing Henry's head to jerk upward sharply. Her dramatic pause created the desired effect, and he wondered in suspense why his son was being mentioned.

"He must have solved it." He decided looking down at the phone again about to hit the talk button. Something in him caused Henry to pause before he pressed it, his thumb poised over the button. Why would there be a news bulletin if it were a solved case?

"A well-known psychic consultant for the SBPD has been identified as her attacker." She continued adjusting her papers as the phone dropped from his numb fingers.

He looked down at the phone on the ground. The phone that was ready to call his son, the son who was being accused of murder right before his eyes. He couldn't believe it. It had to be someone else; there must have been another Shawn Spence at the department. It had to be a mistake. It couldn't be right.

"This man," A picture was put up on screen, hiding the newscaster from view. It stayed on the screen as Henry pulled his eyes from the phone, and looked up at it in disbelief.

The picture was his son, no doubt about it, any fleeting hopes he may have had that there was another Shawn Spencer working as a psychic consultant for the SBPD were destroyed. They may have been slight hopes, but they had still existed. Now they were gone, it was his son on screen. The brown hair, the hazel eyes, the goofy smile, it all screamed Shawn, even if the picture was a little blurry. It was his son being called a murder.

Henry stood up abruptly; His son was being accused of murder. He had to see him now; he had to know what was happening. Henry ran out of the house, not even bothering to turn the television off as he went to his truck. While the screen door slammed behind him the reporter continued on, not knowing that her audience had left.

"Who was apprehended by police not long after the body was found, escaped from the station in what some believe was an arranged getaway." She explained, folding her petite hands over her notes.

Jumping into the driver seat, he pulled out his keys, not hearing the woman's words.

"If anyone has seen, or knows the whereabouts of Shawn Spencer, please call the number at the bottom of the screen. Do not under any circumstances approach this man, Shawn Spencer is believed to be _very_ dangerous." She ended, giving a stern look to an empty room as an engine roared outside.

Tearing out of the driveway, he headed towards the station. "I'm coming, Shawn." He said to the window shield, his shoulders tense and his eyes cold. He knew Shawn hadn't done this. He had not raised a murderer.

* * *

"Dangerous!" Lassiter scoffed in response to the anchorwoman on screen. "The only thing Spencer endangers is my sanity." Crossing his arms he leaned against his desk. 

"How'd you get yourself into this, Shawn?" Juliet asked the screen as his picture was shown again. She still couldn't believe any of this was happening. It was unbelievable that a genuinely nice guy like Shawn was being accused of murder. She had never thought this would happen, but she knew that Shawn would clear himself. He had to.

"I still can't believe he escaped. Seriously, he walked right out the door, and no one noticed." Buzz added, from his place beside the TV that he had wheeled in to show the news broadcast on.

"That's what we're here to discover." An African-American man in a plain black suit declared as he pushed his way through the crowd of officers all watching the television screen. Everyone turned towards him and the man beside him, and they all had a similar look of confusion on their faces.

"And who are you?" The chief asked from the doorway of her office, before she walked further into the room to meet up with the man.

"I am Sergeant Smith," He said indicating to himself, a moment later he gestured to the man beside him. "And this is my partner, Sergeant Smith."

Juliet imagined Shawn standing beside her and quipping, "No relation?" in reference to the men's very different appearances. The first man had dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin, but the man beside him was as colorless as a ghost. His skin was practically paper white, his eyes were pale grey, and his hair was nearly platinum blonde. They were opposites in almost everyway; the only similarities were their clothes and hairstyles. Their suits were identical, and their hair was slicked back in exactly the same way.

"As the head homicide detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department, crimes such as this fall under my jurisdiction." Lassiter responded, pushing away from his desk, and walking in front of the pair of solemn, suited men. "This is my case, gentleman."

"As the foremost officers in Internal Affairs, I believe this falls under _our _jurisdiction." The second Smith countered, his pale eyes gleaming.

"Internal Affairs?" Juliet asked disbelievingly, her eyes wide. "Since when is this an Internal Affairs matter. It's just a murder!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"A murder committed by a consultant of the department, who just happened to escape from said departments custody." The first Smith replied, fixing his black tie almost regally. His partner sent a piercing glare into the eyes of every officer he could see.

"Are you suggesting that we helped Mr. Spencer escape?" The chief asked incredulously, stepping forward. "We are police officers first in this department, gentlemen. I don't know what kind of people you normally deal with, but my officers would never do something like that.

At that statement, Juliet and Lassiter both tried to hide their discomfort, and for the most part where successful. Only those who really looked could have seen the way they both shifted just a bit, or the way that they suddenly seemed just a little warm. Fortunately the Internal Affairs officers were busy watching the chief; otherwise it all may have been finished right then and there.

They would have been questioned, and one of them would have slipped up eventually, it was inevitable. Either that or the video would give something away. They had tried to hide everything, but something would have slipped by. They were done for, the clock was ticking, or at least it was if Internal Affair's looked to far into the two detectives.

"Personally, I could care less whether Spencer spends the rest of his life in jail. At least he'd be out of my hair." Lassiter sneered trying to mask his discomfort. He crossed his arms again, but even as he did so he imagined Shawn saying something along the lines of, "And what lovely hair it is Lassie-O, Have you ever considered doing shampoo commercials?"

"Detective…"The first Smith squinted over at Carlton's desk, before looking back at him. "Lassiter is it? I think you should worry less about Mr. Spencer's jail time and more about your own."

"Sergeants, I _really_ think you should leave." Karen intoned with barely controlled fury. She was infuriated. How could these men walk in here and accuse her officers, her friends, of letting Shawn go. Sure every one of them wanted to, she knew that. If one of them had helped him escape she may actually praise them, but for these strangers to just assume that her department would do something like that was insulting.

"We have a job to do, Chief Vick, and we won't leave until we know what transpired here." The Second Smith added, smiling cockily, his pale lips almost disappearing. "Where are your interrogation rooms, and who wants to go first?" He added, his greasy smile now directed at the surrounding officers.

"Chief!" Was heard being yelled from across the room. The Police officers and the Smiths turned to look at the man running through the building. The group parted to reveal Henry Spencer running towards them. When he reached the group he asked sternly, "Where is my son."

"Mr. Spencer he—" Chief Vick began but the first Smith interrupted her much to his dismay and annoyance.

"I assume this is the perpetrator's father." He said, looking Henry over with a critical eye before turning back at the chief. "Has he given a statement?"

"Who the Hell is this?" Henry practically yelled as he gestured wildly at the two suited men. "And where in God's name is my son?" He asked angrily before starting to walk towards the interrogation rooms.

"Mr. Spencer," Juliet began softly, "He escaped…about 2 hours ago."

"What?" He asked roughly, his voice menacing. "He escaped." This couldn't be happening. It was all some crazy nightmare, or maybe he was hallucination. Maybe she said he was in room 2-h. Really, he can't have gotten out of a police station…right?

"Have you seen your son, Mr. Spencer?" The second Smith interrupted pulling out a pad of paper and a pen from inside his jacket.

"If I'd seen my son do you think I would be in here looking for him!" He yelled rhetorically, his eyes cold and his fists clenched. Whoever these goons where, they were getting on his last nerve, how dare they ask him any questions at all. They had no right to know anything about Shawn; Shawn wasn't some criminal who needed to be interrogated.

"Mr. Spencer, your son managed to get out of the station earlier today. These men's superiors believe that the members of this department helped him escape." Chief Vick explained, placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

"How the _Hell_ did he escape from a police department?" Henry asked her, shrugging off her hand. That was it then, he had heard O'Hara right, Shawn had escaped. He couldn't believe that they had let him go, that he had been able to break out from a police station filled with officers. Maybe he had taught his son too well. How did Shawn manage to get into these situations?

"That is what my partner and I are here to discover. Now, Mr. Spencer, I believe it is time that you and everyone else gives us their statement." The second Smith announced leaving no room for argument, much to Henry and nearly everyone else there's rage.

The man turned swiftly a second later and began his walk towards one of the interrogation rooms. By the time he had reached the door, nearly everyone in the station had joined the group. They were going to give their statements all right, but they were going to defend Shawn as they did it. These men where going to get more than they bargained for.

* * *

Shawn blearily blinked his eyes, and looked up at the darkened ceiling. Realizing he didn't know where he was, he began to push himself up, but a searing pain in his side stopped him dead. With a groan, he slumped back into the bed. Glancing at the clock beside him he saw that it was 6:30 p.m. Time flies when you're getting shot. 

At least he was in a bed, that was a good thing…right? Jails didn't have beds like this, and if he wasn't with the cops then he was somewhere else. But where was he? Looking around the room, he knew he had would recognize something if he had been here before.

It was a relatively nondescript room; blue cover on the bed, wood floors, blue walls with white trim, a window with access to a fire escape, a dresser, and a closet, nothing spectacular. Noticing that the closet was partially open, he squinted, to try and see into it better.

He could see multiple ties on a rack. A red one, a green striped on, a blue one. A blue one! It was the blue Thomas Pink tie that he had forced Gus to lend to Adam Hornstock during the Sandra Panitch case. That could only mean one thing…he had made it to Gus!

"Gus?" Shawn called, Slowly pushing himself into a sitting position and leaning against the headboard. A moment later Gus, opened the door.

"Shawn!" He exclaimed nearly running over to the bed. "I thought you were dead when I found you out there. What happened, what do you think you were doing running away from the cops? I heard it all on the news! How did you escape?" Gus asked, rambling on and on, his worry finally catching up with him.

"I have a more important question." Shawn announced looking around the room as Gus stopped his babbling. "Why have I never been in your room before?"

"Shawn!" Gus shouted in exasperation. "You nearly died and all you can think about is why you haven't been in here?"

"Well…yeah." Shawn replied as if it were obvious, smiling widely he continued, "I haven't been in your bedroom since you moved...we should have a slumber party when I'm not full of bullet holes."

Gus sighed in response, but inwardly he was just glad that Shawn was okay. "Anyways, I patched you up as best I could. I really don't know that much about bullet wounds…you should really go to the hospital, Shawn." Gus informed his friend. He had tried his best, but honestly he was only a pharmaceutical salesman. Sure he knew basic first aid, but that was about it.

He had cleaned it, and padded it with gauze but beyond that Burton Guster was clueless as to what to do. Besides that…he had nearly passed out while trying to clean away the blood. He had always been squeamish, but washing the drying blood from his best friend had almost been too much. The fact that it was Shawn lying unresponsive beside him, as he tried to save his life, had doubled every fear he had. He had done it though, and considering Shawn was awake…hopefully he had done it well.

"I can't go to the hospital, you know that, they'd have to turn me in." Shawn informed him, looking down at the white gauze covering most of his torso. "Besides, it looks like you did a pretty good job Mi Amigo.

"Shawn really you should just—"

"You know…I kinda feel like Harrison Ford in Witness." Shawn interrupted, his face thoughtful.

"What?" Gus responded his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Gus couldn't tell if his friend was feverish or just his normal self. Shawn behaved like a delusional person half the time anyway, so who knows what Shawn would have acted like if he really were delusional

"You know how he gets shot in the garage by the cops, he makes it to the Amish family before collapsing in his car, and then he wakes up inside the house with the Amish woman taking care of him?" Shawn asked, his eyes bright.

"Ummm sure." Gus agreed, waiting for his friend to get to the point...if there even was one to begin with.

"You see the similarities right?" Shawn asked, but when Gus didn't respond he continued anyways. "If I'm Harrison Ford…then you must be the Amish woman."

"I'm not an Amish woman, Shawn." Gus protested, crossing his arms, and decided that Shawn was perfectly fine.

"You so are!" Shawn replied, "I mean you found me outside and then brought me in and took care of me just like her."

"That doesn't mean I'm an Amish woman." Gus countered, his face sour.

"No, but you are _the_ Amish woman." Shawn reasoned, crossing his arms too, but the move pulled at his side and he grimaced. He may have been bandaged, but he was far from healed.

"You should really—" Gus began, but pounding on the door of his apartment stopped him mid reprimand.

"Santa Barbara PD! Open Up!"

"You have to get out of here!" Gus whispered, jumping up from the bed, and grabbing a shirt out of the dresser. Tossing it to Shawn, he looked around frantically. They looked at each other as the officers pounded on the door once again.

"This is the police, if you don't open the door we will!"

"Just a minute, I'm…just getting out of the shower!" Gus called, while still looking at Shawn. A moment later it occurred to them at the same time.

"The fire escape!" They both whispered loudly to each other as their eyes darted to the window. Gus opened the door to his room and began to walk out, his shoulders' tense. He looked back at Shawn who was stiffly buttoning the pale blue shirt that was a little too long on him.

"Go." Gus whispered, and walked out into the living room. As he neared the door the police called again.

"This is your last warning!"

"I'm here, I'm here." He responded loudly, looking over his shoulder one more time. He saw the window close and a pale blue shape disappear from view. Opening the door he tried to be calm. "Hello officers, sorry it took so long, but I was in the shower."

"Mr. Guster, we will need to take a look around your apartment." A pale man in a suit intoned, as he stepped in front of the officers who had been at the door.

**TBC**

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you all enjoyed it, sorry again about it taking so long. Busy, busy week. Please tell me what you guys think. And tell me if you see any grammar errors or anything. Thank you so much for all of your guys' continued support. 


	5. Flashdance will be Our Downfall

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** The Fifth chapter…dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuun. I'm not really sure why I did that…anyways…Here it is!

**Important** -->I edited the last chapter so that Gus moved sometime in between the pilot and whenever this is taking place, so that Shawn's comment of never having been in Gus's room is no longer inaccurate. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

* * *

**Chapter 5- Flashdance will be Our Downfall**

Henry slowly trudged into his house and threw his keys on the coffee table. He had just returned from the Spanish Inquisition going on at the station, and right now he would have given anything to be able to strangle his son. Walking into the kitchen, he was stopped dead by the scene that met his eyes.

Shawn was sitting at his table in a blue shirt that was clearly too long on him, and a pair of oddly stained jeans. He seemed pale, and tired as he stared at the green can in front of him. Something wasn't right, despite the obvious. Not a moment after Henry walked in Shawn turned to face him with a halfhearted grin in place.

"Hey dad!" He cried happily, starting to stand up, but suddenly deciding not to. "I didn't know that you were trying out this apple soda stuff." He continued, staring at the can again as he turned it slowly

"Shawn, what are you—" Henry began, his tone shocked, he hadn't actually expected Shawn to be dumb enough to go to his families' house when he was on the run. He had told him hundreds of times that it was one of the worst mistakes that criminals make, and yet here he was. Part of him wanted to strangle him even more now for making it so easy for him to get caught.

"Does it actually taste like apples?" Shawn interrupted, his eyes mischievously bright. "'Cause that'd be dope."

"Shawn, you have to turn yourself in." He responded, ignoring his son's question. Shawn looked down at the can again, before setting it on the table and standing up slowly.

"Dad, I can't turn myself in." Shawn stated, standing stiffly by the table. "I have to solve this, I don't think anyone else can." Despite how conceded Shawn realized he might have sounded, he knew he was right. Lassie and Jules where great detectives,, but whoever had framed him had done an amazing job of it.

"What's wrong with you?" Henry asked his tone firm, but the look of confusion and worry on his face showed what he was really thinking. He took a step closer to his son, knowing that something wasn't quite right.

"That's a little harsh don't you think?" He replied, quite obviously evading the topic. "Sure, I'm trying to solve a murder that I'm accused of while being on the run from the cops but…" Shawn faded off with a shrug of his shoulders. A grimace soon followed, and he put a hand to his side.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about. Sit down before you fall down." His father commanded, sternly. He would have pushed Shawn into the chair if he hadn't been worried that the smallest breeze would have had him down for the count. Once Shawn was sitting again he continued, "What the hell happened to you, Shawn."

"It's a funny story actually." Shawn began, popping the lid on his soda can. "I was running from the cops, and…hey this _does_ taste a lot like apples." He said after taking a sip from the can. "Although it's more like an apple jolly ranger." He continued deep in thought, his face scrunched up in consideration.

"Shawn." Henry interrupted, trying to get his son back on topic, but Shawn only took another gulp from the can. Only his son would be distracted by Manzana while being on the run from the cops. Although it was likely that Shawn was purposely avoiding the subject, his son was notorious for changing the subject when conversations went somewhere he didn't want them to go.

"This is awesome!" He exclaimed, having finally decided that he liked it. With a grin he took another gulp before smacking his lips dramatically.

"Damn it, Shawn!" Henry growled, taking the can from Shawn and setting it at the other end of the table. "What happened while you were running from the cops." Shawn looked at the can, and then looked at his father. For a moment Henry thought he wasn't going to respond, but sure enough, as soon as he gave up hope, Shawn jumped right in.

"They shot me! Can you believe it? They actually shot me." His son responded, throwing his hands up in the air, which resulted in another grimace and a groan. Shawn clenched his fists on the top of the table, and looked at its surface. Shawn had never been good at being injured. He had been excellent at getting injured of course, but he had never quite grasped the fact that while injured a person's movements were greatly restricted. He had once tried to skateboard with the broken arm that he had received from skateboarding in the first place.

"They shot you?" Henry asked, shocked almost beyond words. Sure, Shawn could be annoying, but he had thought that the department at the very least liked him enough to not shoot him. They all seemed to be fond of him, even if it was grudgingly so, and he could understand that. Shawn was an amazingly bright kid, but he could drive a saint to murder with his antics.

"Yeah, I can't believe it hit me, let alone went all the way through." Shawn continued after he had composed himself again. He hadn't really thought about it at the time, but it was a pretty impressive shot now that he thought about it. Almost too impressive actually.

"It went all the way through." He clarified slowly, having trouble believing that his son was walking around full of holes, although the entire experience had distorted his ideals of probability and reality quite a bit. Who's to say that Shawn being shot was any weirder than him being accused of murder?

"Yeah, it was pretty surprising. I'd almost lost them when it happened, actually. That guy must be an incredible shot to have hit me from that far." Shawn explained, still not completely sure how the officer hit him. "I was nearly out of sight, and I wasn't exactly making myself an easy target.

"Shawn, how far away would you say you were?" Henry asked, sitting down at the table. It didn't seem right that an officer would have been able to do so much damage from that far away, especially when the target was moving.

He thought back to right before he got shot, closing his eyes in concentration. A second later he opened them. "I'd say somewhere in between…40 and 50 meters." He responded, ending slowly as he suddenly realized what he had just said.

"A hand gun wouldn't have the power needed to go straight through at that distance." Henry added, realizing that Shawn had come to the same conclusion as he.

"That's it! They did it!" Shawn exclaimed making a large leap in logic and realizing that he had wrongly assumed the police had shot him. "Whoever set me up, shot me when it looked like I was about to get away! Why didn't I think of that before?" He asked rhetorically. How could he have thought that the police would shoot him, he knew every one of them. The only person in that station who would ever consider shooting him was Lassie, and he had helped him escape in the first place.

"You must have pissed someone off really bad, kid." Henry replied, standing up from his chair.

"Yeah, but who…" Shawn wondered softly, suddenly he spoke again, "I have to see the crime scene." He decided jumping up from his chair. Once he was standing he started to sway and had to put his hand on the table to steady himself. "Note to self," He thought silently, "getting up fast was not a good thing to do after quite a bit of blood loss."

"That's the dumbest thing you've said yet." Henry replied crossing his arms once again. "You have to go to a hospital, Shawn." He demanded, holding his ground. He could barely stand let alone be running all around town.

"I've already had this conversation today." Shawn groaned, reaching for the apple soda again, but his dad got to it faster and dropped it in the garbage can. In response, Shawn sighed and continued, "That was uncalled for, and you know I can't go to the hospital. They'll report it, and I'll get arrested."

"You're plan's not any better. You do realize that they'll probably have men at the scene." Henry responded, stubbornly refusing to let his son go. Shawn was going to the station, going to the hospital, or staying right here those where his only options. He wasn't going to allow his sun to go running off in search of someone who had no quarrels with killing him.

"I've gotta see her apartment. I'm going to jail anyways if I can't solve this." Shawn reasoned moving towards the door with his dad closely following. As he reached it he saw a police cruiser pull up outside the house. His exit was blocked. "Oh shit." He whispered, closing his eyes and turning towards his dad again.

"What?" Henry inquired, clearly alarmed, looking out the window he saw the officers coming to the door. He looked out back and saw another coming to the back door. "Quick! Get in the closet!" Henry exclaimed pushing Shawn in and closing the door.

* * *

Shawn opened the door just a crack and looked out as his father answered the door.

"Hello, Mr. Spencer." Lassiter greeted, but Shawn could only see his dad.

"What're they doing here?" Henry asked grumpily, gesturing to some unseen persons.

"_We_ are here to make sure that this investigation isn't further compromised." A voice that sounded suspiciously like the first Sergeant Smith supplied.

"With the possible corruption inside this department, we can't leave any openings that may allow the suspect to escape…again." Replied another voice condescendingly seemingly coming from farther away. He must have been the one to come in the back door. His father only grumbled in response.

"May we come in?" A soft voice, which Shawn immediately identified as Juliet's, asked. Suddenly, the chorus of Maniac by Michael Sembello was sounding through the small space.

"She's a maniac, maniac on the floor." Resounded from the phone as he frantically looked at the caller ID out of habit. Seeing that he didn't recognize the number, and almost slapping himself for his hesitation, he tried to turn off the object. Unfortunately in the cramped space of the closet it slipped from his hands, and continued to ring on the floor of the undersized room. He couldn't believe he was going to get caught because of Flashdance.

* * *

"What's that?" Asked one of the Smiths as they walked past Henry and into the hallway. Lassiter rolled his eyes as he followed the officers in. It was a relatively stupid question. Either the man's soundtrack to Flashdance had a terrible scratch in it, or someone, most likely Shawn, had Maniac as a ring tone. Carlton, being the brilliant detective that he was, deduced that it was the second. He had never figured Henry for a Flashdance kind of guy.

"It's my cell phone." Henry responded quickly, walking towards the kitchen. "I think I left it on the table." The group followed, but when the phone was nowhere to be found the two Internal Affairs officers grew suspicious.

"It's not here." Replied the paler of the two as if he had made some brilliant and damning discovery. Juliet was the one who had to hold back an eye roll this time around. Obviously it wasn't here. They had just spent the last five minutes searching for the phone. She was seriously beginning to wonder whether these guys were as dumb as they seemed or if they just enjoyed stating the obvious.

"How ever did you come to such an ingenious conclusion, Sergeant?" Carlton responded mockingly, he could not figure out why they found it necessary to state the obvious at every turn. Of course the phone wasn't here! Maybe it was some sort of Internal Affairs strategy, make the officers you are investigating think you are completely oblivious and idiotic so that they will slip up. Unfortunately for them only the first part of their astounding plan was working.

The officer only glared in response. Getting back to the matter at hand, he cocked his head to the side slightly. Listening carefully he heard the ring tone, and he and his partner followed the song out of the room again. Following the sound it lead them to the closet. Henry held his breath as the second Smith slid the door open slowly; his partner pointed his gun into the darkness as backup. When his pale eyes saw nothing, he quickly turned on the light and looked again.

The only thing there was the still ringing phone on the ground. As soon as the man picked the phone up, it stopped ringing. With a scowl, he handed it to his partner who holstered his gun. Turning around everyone noticed the front door still being open from earlier.

"You better hope to god this is your phone, Mr. Spencer." The first Smith informed him, placing it in an evidence bag.

* * *

Shawn made his way down the sidewalk as quickly as possible. He was only a few blocks from his dad's house and already his stamina was waning. "Okay…so being shot officially sucks." He mumbled to himself as he leaned against a lamppost to take a break. They always made it look so easy in the movies, you get shot, you grimace and maybe stumble a bit, and then you are right back to chasing the bad guy. As it turns out, you get shot, nearly pass out, use your adrenaline to run away, pass out, and then spend the rest of your little adventure in pain and out of energy. He was definitely going to write a letter of complaint to those screenwriters. It was clearly false advertisement.

Pushing away from the light, he continued walking again. He had to get to Samantha's. It was the only way he would find out what was going on. As he walked the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt like he was being watched. Walking faster he crossed the street, maybe they had followed him. Maybe he hadn't gotten away as cleanly as he had thought he had.

His dad claiming it was his phone in the kitchen, and the door being open, had made it almost too easy for him to escape. Maybe they were right behind him. Quickly looking over his shoulder, he saw only shadows. Shaking his head, he sped up just a little bit more. No one was following him…he hoped.

He saw the street that led to Samantha's apartment and slowed his walk. Walking cautiously down the street he made his way towards the apartment. The eerie feeling of being watched was still creeping up his spine. He didn't see any police cars on the road, and there were no non-descript Sedans in sight. The coast was clear, thus far.

Walking up to the door, he opened it and walked into the small foyer. Seeing the keypad that would let him in, he realized he needed the password. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the night after his date with Samantha. Running the events through his mind as if on fast forward, he focused as soon as they reached right where he was standing now. He could see her walking up to the keypad, and punching in seven numbers. The tenants either had a sense of humor, or it was completely coincidental. Either way he hoped they hadn't changed it.

"8 6 7 5 3 0 9" He mumbled as he punched them in successively. When the small light turned green, he grinned happily and cried, "I got it!" Pulling the door open he walked up the single flight of stairs to her apartment. Seeing the police tape across the door, he ignored it and jiggled the handle. It wasn't locked.

"Thanks, Jules." Shawn whispered as he ducked under the tape. She and Lassiter must have convinced the other officers that he wouldn't be dumb enough to come here, and then Juliet had conveniently left the door open like before. Honestly, he could have picked it or climbed in through the window, but it was really helpful.

Stepping into the room, he turned on the light and quickly looked around the apartment. It was in shambles as if their had been a struggle. The room was torn apart, there were papers strewn everywhere, and desk drawers were thrown here and there. A lamp was in pieces on the floor next to his feet as he walked towards the middle of the room. Noticing a specific piece of paper, he bent down and looked at it.

It was a resume, it showed a picture of Samantha, and then listed various jobs she had held. "Voice in Dawn commercial, Cameo in Verizon Ad, Extra on 'Days of our Lives'…" He read down the list quietly to himself. "She was an actress. It was all an act." He concluded standing up carefully. She had told him that she was an interior designer, and yet her résumé showed nothing but acting jobs. She was a struggling actress, which meant she had been hired to go out with him. He had been played.

Realizing that the evidence against him would no longer be here, he decided to do what anyone in his situation would do…surf the web. Moving towards the computer desk that he knew was in Samantha's room, he sat down with a small groan as a jolt of pain ran through his side. He couldn't wait until all this was over and he could get some actual help. He hated the hospital, and he would be pleading to get out within a day, but right then he would have done anything to feel normal again.

Turning the computer on, he waited not so patiently for it to load. Once it was up and running, he clicked Internet Explorer and typed 'Shawn Spencer Samantha Caine' into the search bar. A few moment later a list of related pages came up, and he glanced through them quickly, the first one titled 'Woman found dead in Santa Barbara Apartment' seemed the most promising, for apparent reasons, so he clicked it.

When the page loaded, he began to read the article to himself "Samantha Caine, 28, of Downtown Santa Barbara, was found murdered in her apartment early Saturday morning.

Although there were no fingerprints found at the scene. The belt used to strangle the victim matches one confirmed to be owned by the suspect, and a patch pulled from the assumed assailant's jacket was also found.

Motive as of yet is unknown, but Caine's attacker is believed to be mentally unstable, and some sources have said that he began to stalking her before the murder." Scoffing he closed the page, "Okay, so they found a belt like mine, my patch, and she claimed I stalked her." He informed himself, wishing Gus were with him. "I'd probably believe I were guilty if I were not, in fact, me."

Going back to look at the living room again, he noticed a small diamond earring lying near the kitchen. It was right next to the half wall that divided the living room from the cooking area. Noticing that there was a crack in the plaster that hadn't been there during his first visit, he guessed that it had been caused during the struggle.

Crouching down to pick up the earring, he studded it for a minute, turning it slowly between his fingers. Closing his eyes he imagined Samantha. Her long blonde hair, her warm brown eyes, and her distinct lack of pierced ears. Obviously it wasn't her's. "Who's is it?" He asked himself, standing up again stiffly. He really needed to stop bending; it was not a fun thing to do at the moment truth be told.

Another woman popped into his head unbidden, her medium length hair was an extreme contrast to Samantha's, and he could see the earring he held in his hand residing in her ear. "Really?" Shawn asked himself, not quite believing his own conclusion. Walking back into Samantha's bedroom, he brought up the search engine again, and typed in his guess. Clicking on the first page that showed up, he almost groaned when he read what it said.

"Temporarily released due to mistrial…you've got to be kidding me!" Standing up again, he left the apartment; almost slamming the door before he remembered that he was supposed to be stealthy. Closing it quietly, he walked slowly down the stairs, holding his side as each step jostled it. He knew it had been too easy…okay well not necessarily easy, but it could have been harder. Now it was coming back to bite him in the ass. "This seriously sucks." He decided once again, as he left the building.

Wondering where to go next, he just started walking, but suddenly the feeling of being watched was back again. His skin was covered in goose bumps and if felt like bugs where crawling up and down his spine. Someone was watching him, turning around swiftly, he still only saw the surrounding darkness. He wished that Fall had longer days as he tried to find his follower in the deep shadows.

Shaking his head, he put his stalker out of his mind, or at least tried. Trying to ignore the woman that he knew was following him was hard, especially when she was most likely murderous, but he needed a plan.

After five minutes of walking, with his teeth on edge, he had one. He needed Gus, a cell phone, and a whole lot of luck if he was going to pull this off.

**To Be Continued in the Next Installment of Mind Over Murder**

(Now I feel like an old TV show)

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**Author's note:** Well there's the 5th chapter. Everything seems to be falling into place, but who knows what Shawn's plan is shrugs. Please review everyone, and tell me what you think :) 


	6. All My Children

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here's the 6th chapter. Sorry it took so long, life's gotten pretty hectic around here. Oh, and the point of view changes quite a few times in this one. (Sorry about the Sqaushing in the title thing...It's a long chapter title and it wouldn't fit in the box lol)

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

* * *

**Chapter 6- Let's Give "All My Children" a Run for Its Money**

"Mr. Spencer, we understand that you want to protect your son, but we need you to cooperate." Stated the first Smith when he got frustrated with the man's round about answers. First they had tried to appeal to his sense of duty, the man was a police officer after all, but now they needed a new approach.

"Your son has been accused of murder Mr. Spencer, and we need to find him. In order to do that you have to answer our questions." The second stated firmly, crossing his arms in poorly concealed frustration.

They hadn't gotten any real information out of him yet, and he could tell it was driving them mad. Their continual pacing and clipped tones gave it away. Henry Spencer on the other hand sat calmly at the table in the interrogation room. The only indication of his anger was the way that his hands occasionally clenched on the tabletop.

So far they hadn't been able to goad him into giving anything away, but each time they mentioned what Shawn had supposedly done he had wanted to strangle them. He wasn't going to let them get to him though, he had played mind games with the best of them, and these guys were by no means the best.

"Mr. Spencer, the phone was found in your closet." Stated the pale Smith, placing his hands on the table across from Henry dramatically.

"That's not a question, Sergeant." Henry stated evenly, looking into the man's pale eyes. As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt like Shawn. He could almost hear his son saying something like that, and for once his son's insubordination made him want to smile.

"Mr. Spencer." The first Smith almost growled, "How did it get there?" his words brusque, and Henry could tell that these men had just about had it with him. He had a reason, though, for not answering their questions. The longer they were here talking to him, the more time Shawn had to figure out what happened.

"Shawn must have dropped it when he was over a few days ago." He replied, as if bored by the line of questioning. Shawn almost always had his cell phone with him, and Henry knew that he wouldn't have lost it like that. Fortunately for his cover story, the officers weren't privy to that knowledge, and he sure as Hell wasn't going to tell them.

"Why would it be in the closet then?" Asked the second Smith, a huge grin pulling at his pale lips. He thought he had him, but obviously this man didn't know Henry Spencer. He wouldn't be beaten that easily.

"It probably fell out of his jacket pocket." Henry responded smoothly, still sounding like it had all happened that way. He wasn't giving anything away, and regardless of the fact that the men wanted to find something on him, they had yet to trip him up.

"Why didn't he notice that he had lost it?" Asked the second Smith again, trying to once again catch Henry in his lie.

"Surely he would have tried to use his cell phone between then and now." Chimed in the darker Sergeant Smith not a moment later, a patronizing smirk on his face. He too figured that he had finally out thought Henry Spencer.

"You're overestimating my son." Henry replied, preparing himself for an outright lie, "Shawn's probably the least observant person I know."

* * *

Juliet could hear Henry Spencer being interrogated by the Internal Affairs officers in the next room. Shawn's cell phone in the closet had caused some major suspicion on their part, and they were determined to implicate the man in harboring Shawn. Despite the fact that Henry was defending himself well, she knew that Shawn had been in there. What she didn't know was how he had managed to get away; he had some amazing luck that was for sure. 

Although. Shawn had always had amazing luck. Sure he got into trouble all the time, but he always got out of it. No matter what he did, he always came out okay. He could run in front of a speeding train while chasing a criminal, and somehow the train would stop in time, or someone would get there just in the nick of time to save him. Hopefully, he would get out of this too; he would need all of the luck he possessed to prove himself innocent.

She just hoped to God that he was okay, who knows what sort of trouble he could have gotten himself into while he was on the run. She was helping him as much as she could, but there was only so much she and Carlton could do without alerting Internal Affairs. The two men interrogating Mr. Spencer had already done the same to her, Carlton, and much of the department. Even the chief had been subject to their scrutiny, which made Juliet doubly glad that they hadn't informed her of their plans.

* * *

Carlton Lassiter, sat at his desk filling out a report over what had happened at Henry Spencer's house, but he couldn't really keep his mind on it. He would write a sentence and then stop. He couldn't stop thinking about where Spencer was. If the 'psychic' was caught, then it was very likely that he and O'Hara would be incriminated in his escape. It was already hard enough trying to evade Internal Affairs questions. If Spencer was found they would be questioning him, and Carlton wasn't completely confident in the kid's ability to lie. 

Sure, if Shawn was caught, and sent to jail he would be out of the department's collective hair, but it didn't seem right. He knew Shawn hadn't done it, and despite the fact that he wanted to strangle the man half the time, Shawn was a good guy. Albeit annoying, immature, and utterly infuriating, but still a good guy. He didn't deserve to go to jail, even if Lassiter would have had fewer headaches as a result.

Realizing that he wasn't going to get any real work done, Lassiter closed the document and brought up another one. He began to type all of the criminals that Spencer had sent to jail's names onto the blank page. The least Carlton could do was try and figure out who had framed the 'psychic'.

* * *

Gus watched the television intently. He listened to the drone of the reporter as if his life depended on it. Shawn was out there somewhere, and he needed to know if he had been caught. Going to the station was out of the question; it had taken him forever to get the officers out of his apartment, and by no means did he want to be subject to the Spanish Inquisition again. Besides, Shawn could come back at any moment, and he would be here if he did. 

He wished that none of this were happening, it all seemed so surreal. He had never even considered that one day something like this would happen; he had never thought Shawn being accused of murder was possible. Gus wished that this were all some sort of sick joke, it was just so insanely dramatic that it shouldn't have been really happening

First Shawn was accused of stalking, the next day he was accused of murder. Then, in an attempt to escape from the police he was shot. Honestly, it read like a bad soap opera. Tomorrow everyone will find that Shawn is the heir to a huge fortune, and that he was framed so that his evil twin brother could inherit the money. "It's like an episode of 'All My Children'…" Gus groaned, trying to focus on the news again.

A soft rap on the door caused Gus's gaze to shoot upward. It wasn't the police; they were louder. Standing up from his couch, he walked towards the door and looked through the peephole. Through the small hole he could see Shawn leaning against the door, his face pale and his face strained. Maybe being psychic is contagious, Gus thought as he unlocked the door.

* * *

Shawn looked over his shoulder again. She had followed him here, and he knew it. He had never seen her, and he couldn't hear her, but something told Shawn that she was there. What he couldn't understand was why she hadn't done anything yet. Raising his hand slowly so as to not pull at his side, he reached to knock again, but the door opened before he could. 

"Hey, Gus." Shawn said smiling weakly as his friend held the door open for him. Once he was inside, Gus closed the door and locked it once more.

"Are you okay? Where did you go?" Gus asked rapidly as soon as the door was closed. He had tried not to make a big deal while Shawn was outside. The couple next door was nosy and drawing attention to the fact that an accused murder on the run was in the hallway wouldn't have been conducive to secrecy.

"Why is there paint on the sidewalk?" Shawn asked avoiding the questions, "Have you taken up painting?"

"No, Shawn." He replied moodily, "There's paint on the sidewalk because I had to cover up your blood with something." Gus explained. It had been the first thing he had thought of, bloodstains weren't exactly the easiest things to get rid off.

"Oh…"He mused nodding his head, a second later he looked up, his face angelic, "So I made a mess then?"

Gus scoffed and shook his head. "You're just lucky that the woman across the hall had been repainting her furniture, I'd probably be in police custody right now if they'd found the blood."

"Aren't _you_ the lucky one then?" The fake psychic asked smiling widely, but then he swayed and leaned against the wall. The world was spinning, and his head ached, all he wanted to do was sleep. Blinking a few times, he barely heard Gus over the roaring in his head.

"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed, taking a step closer and putting his friends arm over his shoulder. "You need to sit down." Sitting the man on the couch carefully, Gus was alarmed when his normally talkative friend didn't speak.

Shawn's jaw was clenched, and his eyes where closed as he tried to quell the pain in his gut. It felt like someone was using the inside of his head as a drum set, and he had a feeling it was from blood loss. He had started bleeding again when he was halfway to Gus's, and his body obviously wasn't happy about it. Opening his hazel eyes, he looked into the concerned brown ones in front of him. "I'm okay."

"Yeah right!" Gus cried dubiously. He looked his friend over and noticed how there was a faintly darker patch on his shirt. It was near the very edge of Shawn's side, exactly where he had been shot. Standing up, he went into the bathroom to get his first aid kit. "Shirt off." He ordered once he was back in the room.

"Shouldn't we at least go out to dinner first?" Shawn responded, his voice playful, but it seemed half hearted. His friend's responding glare stopped him from further mocking. Shawn slowly unbuttoned the borrowed shirt, exposing the blood stained bandage on his side. He carefully pulled his arms out of the sleeves, grimacing slightly as the movement pulled at his abdomen.

"You really shouldn't be walking around like this." Gus mumbled as he cut away the gauze that had been wrapped around his ribs. A moment later only the gauze place directly on the wound was still in place.

"I don't exactly have much of a choice ya know." Shawn replied, trying not to look at the now exposed bloody bandage. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw once again as Gus pulled the soaked bandage away from the wound. It felt like his friend had been tearing his side into pieces as the areas of dried blood were pulled away from the skin.

Once Gus was looking at the ragged opening in his friend's side, he had to close his eyes to try and compose himself. Breath, he told himself. Opening his eyes again, he looked at the bullet hole. It was just barely there at all really. If it had been only a few more centimeters to the right it wouldn't have hit him at all.

Shawn was just lucky that it hadn't hit any organs or his ribs; the placement couldn't have been better…unless of course it hadn't hit him at all. Unfortunately, Gus noticed that it seemed slightly red and puffy, as if it were infected. Given the fact that he most likely hadn't cleaned it as well as he should have, it probably was. Reaching for the disinfectant, he stopped when Shawn made a noise.

"Just bandage it up, Gus, this'll be over pretty soon and I can get fixed then." He said softly, looking towards the door and windows.

"What do you mean by over?" Gus responded, his hand still hovering over the bottle. It may have just started to get infected, but if it weren't treated it would get worse. Shawn was already banged up enough; he didn't need this on top of it.

"She's following me, the woman who framed me." Shawn responded, looking towards the door again. "She followed me here."

"What!" Gus yelled, jumping up in alarm, but Shawn pulled him down again. His injured friend placed a finger to his lips in the sign for quiet, before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Your phone has GPS, right?" Shawn asked, seeing the cell phone on the coffee table as he grabbed the gauze from the first aid kit. Handing the roll to his partner in crime he waited for an answer.

"Yeah…" Gus responded, his voice soft but confused. He would have argued to disinfect the wound, but his confusion over what Shawn was planning distracted him. Taking the gauze, he folded some of it like before and placed it on the bullet hole. He tried to be gentle, but Shawn's quite groans and tensed muscles showed that he wasn't as successful as he would have liked to be.

Softly, almost through clenched teeth, he continued, "I need to borrow it." Shawn paused almost sighing in relief as Gus finished padding the injury itself. Looking into his co-conspirators eyes he whispered, "Once I leave I want you to call the chief, and tell her that you know where to find me. Tell them what's going on."

"Shawn, you better not be doing what I think you are." He whispered fiercely, wrapping the bandage around his friend's abdomen to keep the other gauze in place.

Realizing that Gus had finished he grabbed the blue shirt and slowly put it back on. He stood up stiffly, and grabbed the phone of the table. "What do you think I'm going to do?" Shawn asked enigmatically and smiled, before placing it in his jeans pocket and walking towards the door.

Loudly he said, "I need to get out of town, Gus, the cops are breathing down my neck." He then opened the door, and smiled reassuringly at his friend. "Don't worry about me." He ended, both for anyone listening and for his friend.

Closing the door, Shawn took as deep a breath as his current state would allow. Walking down the hallway, he prepared himself for what would probably be the most dangerous thing he had done yet. She wanted the cops to catch him. She wouldn't let him leave town if she could stop him. He had a feeling that very shortly she was going to try and do just that.

* * *

Chief Karen Vick sat at her desk with her head in her hands. The stress of the past two days weighing her down like nothing else could. Sighing, she looked around the room and tried to distract herself. Seeing the file of evidence from the scene on the corner of her desk made her start thinking about Shawn again. 

Before today she would have thought it impossible for Shawn to be considered a murder. He was one of the kindest and most child-like people she knew. He seemed to innocent to even be thought of as a suspect to something as horrendous as murder. Sure she knew he wasn't a child, and she knew that he had seen plenty of murder scenes, but it was just inconceivable that someone like Shawn Spencer would be on the run from the cops.

He was like an optimistic ray of sunshine in the sometimes drab and dreary station. He was always making dumb jokes, or doing crazy things. Even his visions made the officers laugh. He always knew when an officer had moved into a new home, and every time a member of the department had a baby he was there with congratulatory pineapple. Come to think of it, he gave pineapples for almost any reason.

The station would never be the same without him, and she sincerely wished this would all work out. She hoped he would be found innocent, or even found at all in fact. She couldn't stop worrying that something would happen to him while he was in hiding, and no one would be able to help him. She just wished she could know what was going on.

The shrill ring of the phone on her desk brought her out of her reverie. Picking it up and placing it to her ear she said, "Karen Vick."

"Chief." Responded an almost frantic voice, "I know where Shawn is."

"Mr. Guster?" She asked in shock, "Where is he? What's going on?"

"I can't explain everything right now, but I need you and whoever else is working on Shawn's case to meet me at my office building." Gus answered, speaking quickly. She could hear him grabbing his keys and jacket in the background.

"Where is it?" Karen asked, standing up and grabbing her own jacket.

* * *

"Ask Juliet, she knows." Gus responded. "Hurry Karen." Gus hit the talk button on the phone, ending the conversation. He pressed it again a second later and punched in a number."Hi, Tom. This is Burton Guster."

* * *

Karen hung up the phone and rushed out of her office, seeing Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara she walked quickly up to them. "We have a lead." She told them.

"What's going on chief?" Juliet asked setting a file she was holding on her desk. Seeing that Karen was about to leave she grabbed her jacket.

"Has Spencer been found?" Lassiter asked, also grabbing his jacket.

The Smiths having overheard Karen's words, joined the group just as Chief Vick said, "Mr. Guster has a plan. We're meeting him at his office building."

"What are we waiting for?" The first Smith asked, his dark eyes gleaming in excitement. No one responded, but barely a minute later all five of them where out the door.

* * *

Shawn slowly walked down the street away from Gus's apartment. He turned down an alleyway, looking over his shoulder as he did so. A wave of dizziness overtook him when he was about halfway through the path, and he leaned against the cool brick. 

Turning his head so that his cheek rested on the rough surface, he almost sighed as it eased his pounding head. Pushing himself away from the wall carefully, he continued walking again. Each step pulled at his side, and he had to stifle a groan each time he placed a foot down. It seemed to be getting worse, but at least it would all be over soon.

Reaching the end of the alley, he walked out onto the sidewalk and continued away from Gus's apartment. As he was passing another alley, something smooth and cold was suddenly against his temple. Putting up his hands in surrender, he tried not to allow his apprehension to show.

"This kinda reminds me of the last time we saw each other." Shawn grinned turning slowly to face the woman in the alley. Although she was completely hidden in the dark, he knew who it was anyways.

"This time there's not an old woman here to save you." She replied, taking a step out of the alley and into the light of the street light nearby.

"You know…I never did thank her for that." Shawn shrugged, his hands still in the air.

"Move, Spencer." She commanded her voice as cold as the gun trained on him.

"I thought we would at least be on a first name basis by now, Lindsay." He replied, but she only pressed the gun into his back. At her silence he began to walk forward, although he wasn't really sure where they were going.

Taking a deep breath despite the pain it caused, he moved out of the halo of the streetlight, and into the darkness of another alley. Looking upward he could see the stars above the city, and even though there wasn't a shooting one, he wished on all of them that Gus would hurry up.

**To Be Continued…(Dun Dun Duuuuuuuuuuun)**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well…there's the 6th Chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and tell me what you think :D. We're getting closer to the end folks. 


	7. It was Worth a Shot, Pun Intended

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here's chapter 7, I hope you guys all enjoy it. I want to thank you guys for catching my errors while reading, it helps greatly. I don't' have a beta, and occasionally I miss things (plus my late uploading times aren't conducive to clear thought lol)

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

* * *

**Chapter 7- It was Worth a Shot, Pun Intended.**

The darkness outside of the building was almost absolute; the lights shinning through the few occupied offices were the only brightness in the area. Gus paced anxiously on the sidewalk as he waited for the others to arrive. He brought his wrist up and punched the light button on his watch, as the neon glow lit its face he was able to read the time.

"9:30…"He mumbled impatiently letting his arm fall back to his side before he began to pace once more. "What's taking them so long?"

Tom was already in the building, waiting for Gus in his office. As luck would have it, he had stayed later than usual today. The officers were taking forever to get here, and it was driving Gus crazy waiting for them. Anything could have been happening to Shawn, and he was just standing around doing nothing.

Suddenly, Gus could see a set of headlights piercing the darkness. A second later he saw a familiar car passing through the glow of a street lamp down the street. Finally! He sighed in relief, stopping his pacing as the car, followed by another, pulled up to the curb and parked. He took a quick step towards the vehicles and waited for their occupants to appear.

"Chief!" Gus exclaimed as she stepped out of the passenger side of Lassiter's car, "We're going to go inside and see my supervisor. I know how we can find Shawn."

"What's going on?" Juliet asked as she climbed out of the back seat. "How do you know where he is?"

"That's what we'd like to know." The first Sergeant Smith interjected as he and his partner joined the group. They were obviously suspicious, and after finding no conclusive proof of foul play in the department, they were grasping at straws.

"Why are they here?" Gus asked in a barely controlled monotone. Frankly, he was sick of Internal Affairs; some may go as far as to say he hated the two men before him. They had questioned him for a ridiculous amount of time, accusing him at every turn while insulting the moral fiber of his best friend. The two men weren't exactly on his Christmas list at the moment, and he doubted they ever would be.

"They are investigating this case also, Mr. Guster." Karen explained, obviously as thrilled with their presence as Gus was. She was only putting up with their intrusion because of the authority they possessed. They could exclude her from the case if she gave them a reason, and she was determined to not give them any openings. She needed to be in on this, she couldn't sit on the sidelines while Shawn was investigated.

"If you can call what they do 'investigating'." Lassiter added under his breath, throwing the pair a smug look. They responded with a glare, but before they could speak Karen's voice was heard again.

"They're here to make sure that we follow standard operating procedure." She continued ignoring the three men and focusing on Gus, who was the one she really needed to listen to. He knew where Shawn was, and she had a feeling he knew what was really happening. No one knew Shawn like Gus did, she was sure that he was the only one who really understood the psychic.

"Right…" Gus grimaced as he turned away from them and walked towards the door. Once he reached it, he threw a look over his shoulder at the group. "Follow me." He announced before opening the door and walking into the dimly lit office building.

* * *

Shawn grimaced as Lindsay shoved him out of the alley. The seemingly small push jolted through his body, and he stumbled, almost falling over. His side burned, and he held in a gasp. He was _so _not feeling his best at the moment. 

"Stop stalling." She barked, pointing the gun at his aching head. Her hand was steady and he knew that if she wanted to she could have killed him right then and there. "What was she waiting for? Why not get it over and done with?" He wondered silently to himself.

He slowly straightened up from his half bent position, looking up at her through his eyelashes. The streetlight behind her lit the area, but shrouded her in shadow due to her position. Despite the darkness he could see her gun following him the entire way up. "I just want to get the most out of our time together." He responded once he was fully standing, a half smirk sliding onto his face.

"Just get into the car." She commanded her voice seeming slightly off as she pressed the gun to his forehead. The steel was cold against his skin, and even though he couldn't see her, he knew that she was holding back a smile. Call it psychic intuition, but he knew he still got to her on some level

Shawn crossed his eyes, looking to the gun at the middle of his forehead. A moment later his eyes refocused on her face and he asked, "What car?"

She took a step back, keeping her gun trained on him, and motioned with her left hand to the car a few meters away. It was just barely beyond the reach of the light cast by the street lamp near the alleyway, but Shawn should have seen it. He wouldn't have missed it under normal circumstances.

Shawn let his mistake go, and chalked it up to his condition. His body felt sweaty and cold at the same time, as if he had just run a mile and then walked into a freezer. His side and back on the other hand felt like there was a band of heat covering them, and he knew that wasn't good. He couldn't even process why it was a bad thing, even though he knew that he knew the reason. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton that was blaring Heavy Metal loud enough to pop his eardrums.

The only thing he could really focus on was the dull, burning ache that would flare up if he moved the wrong way. It was like he had a red hot poker in his side and ever once in a while it would be turned or pushed deeper in. Overall Shawn felt like shit, and he swore that if he made it out alive he was never getting shot again.

"Ah…that car." He nodded smiling again. He made a sweeping gesture with his arms, ignoring the pull that it caused in his abdomen, and proclaimed "Ladies first." When her gun didn't remove its aim from his head, and when she didn't say anything, he shrugged stiffly, "Or not." and walked towards the car, keeping his hands up like a good little hostage.

Shawn stopped once he had reached the passenger side door, as he began to reach for the handle a sharp jab to his back caused him to stumble forward, hitting the side mirror of the car. He barely avoided hitting his head on the roof as he swiftly bent over right afterwards.

The lurch had caused him to hit the bullet's exit wound on the mirror, and the result was excruciating. It felt like he had been shot all over again. Taking shallow breaths, he tried to quell the dizziness that the incident caused. He heard harsh breathing, and for a moment he thought that Liekin was the culprit. Soon, though, Shawn realized that he was the one making the noise.

Once the pain radiating through his body receded slightly, he straightened up once more, keeping his back to her. "What was that for?" He asked through clenched teeth, the only upside to the pain had been that it had cleared his head a bit. He would have gladly dealt with his fuzzy thoughts if it had mean avoiding the extreme discomfort that had caused.

"Other side." Lindsay informed him, pushing him past the passenger side door. Once he was at the driver's side she opened the door, not taking any chances, and held her gun on him as he slowly sat down.

After making sure he was in, she closed the door. Keeping her eyes and gun trained on him, she opened the door to the back seat and slid in behind him. She closed her door almost silently and put the gun to his right temple. Dropping the keys over his shoulder, and onto his seat, she said, "Drive."

Slowly putting the key in the ignition, he started the car and pulled away from the curb. "Which way?" Shawn asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he reached a stop sign. The world spun for a moment and he blinked it away, thanking whoever was listening that he had been stopped when it had happened.

"Left." She told him, and he complied. He was tempted to start speeding, or blow a red light. Sure it might have gotten some cops to follow him, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't have been the best idea. If he did she would force him to lose them, there would be none around, or she would decide he wasn't worth it and shoot him then and there. Keeping focused on the road and her instructions, he drove as carefully as possible, hoping that the police where already well on their way to finding him.

* * *

Gus opened the door to Tom's office and then stepped aside, allowing the others to go in before him. Tom was sitting at his computer and when he saw them come in he placed a disk into it. The light from the screen turned his face orange as the program's start up message came on screen. 

Once everyone was inside, he crossed the room, going to stand next to his supervisor. "I want to thank you for this." Gus told him graciously as Tom positioned the cursor over the word 'enter' and clicked twice.

"No, problem, I was still here anyways." He responded as it loaded. "I still don't understand exactly what's going on though."

"We all seem to be in the same boat then." Chief Vick announced as moved to stand next to Gus who made room for her behind the desk. A moment later, the other four moved to the other side of the desk, correctly assuming that it was where they were supposed to be.

Gus turned to Karen, "I'm sorry for not explaining sooner…" He began, his tone sincere, "It would have taken too much time to tell everyone separately." Gus paused and pointed at his own name on the screen, "There." He told Tom, before lowering his hand and placing it on the back of the chair.

"What's the point of this?" The second Smith interrupted abruptly as he glared over Tom's shoulder at the Navtrak heading and map on the screen. Carlton, who stood next to him behind the crowded desk, rolled his eyes.

"The point," Gus paused resisting the urge to roll his own eyes, "Is that Shawn has my phone."

"So?" The first smith questioned from his position to the right of Lassiter.

"To prevent the sale of our products illegally, we install GPS on the phones that are provided for our employees. Gus's phone is one of ours." Tom explained as he watched the blinking message that said the satellites where searching.

"Shawn has my phone, and Tom has the technology to find him." Gus explained with perfect timing as a small green dot appeared on map.

* * *

Shawn drove silently; ever aware of the weapon trained on him, but when the buildings were replaced with trees and grass 15 minutes later his curiosity won out. "Where are we going?" He asked, knowing that he recognized the area. He had been this way before, but everything looked so different at night; he couldn't quite place it. 

"You're psychic, why don't you tell me?" She responded sarcastically; he could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Having a gun to my head tends to mess with my clairvoyant Chi," He replied before inquiring, "Left or right" as they came to a fork in the road.

"Right." She informed him, a second later she continued, "And did you honestly expect me to lower my gun for your 'Chi'?"

"No, but I figured it was worth a shot, pun intended." Shawn informed her with a small smile, a second later he sighed dramatically. "The Spirits would have still been out of whack either way." He continued, pretending like he actually wanted her to drop the gun for his 'abilities' sake.

"Oh, and why is that?" She asked, playing along. She knew he wasn't psychic. She didn't believe in them, and she had a feeling he didn't either. Although, she decided that if he could pretend, so could she.

"Psychically…you're dead to me, Lindsay." He told her, still looking ahead. "You have been since I discovered the real you." This time the sigh that escaped his mouth was a genuine one. His words were almost identical to the ones he had said the last time they had seen each other, and it still hurt just as much to say them.

He had really liked her in the beginning, although he had never really believed her 'psychic' act. It's not like it really mattered anyways; he was pretending to be psychic too. If she hadn't been a thief and a murder, maybe it could have worked out between them.

His words seemed to strike a cord with her also because suddenly she was tense again, he could feel her hand shake slightly as she gripped the gun tighter. "If you don't _shut up_ and drive, you're going to be the dead one in this relationship."

Shawn wisely complied and shut his mouth, moments later he saw a familiar sign. DRA Aviation was emblazoned above the gates of the small airport they had arrived at. She had brought them back to where he had ruined her plans, and that couldn't be a good thing.

* * *

"There he is!" Juliet exclaimed, her loud voice in his ear caused the first Smith to grimace as she pointed at the flashing dot. "Thank god." 

"Detective," Karen turned to Lassiter, "Call the station, and have them send a couple of cruisers to pick him up."

"Wait!" Gus cried, causing everyone to look at him with mild shock. "He's not going to be alone."

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Guster?" Asked the first Smith, his eyes alight with suspicion.

"Just spit it out already Guster." Lassiter scowled crossing his arms. "You had us all rush here, and now you're just wasting time."

"The woman who framed Shawn is with him right now. I don't know who it is, but I'm pretty sure she's not stable." Gus told them, "She's not going to give him up easily."

"Why the Hell should we believe that he is being held against his will?" Asked the first Smith, his brown eyes cold and disbelieving. "The man is obviously guilty."

Juliet clenched her fist at the man's words; she was seething on the inside as his partner added his own 'wise' thoughts to the conversation. She saw Carlton's jaw tighten, and watched as the chief's eyes grew hard.

"For all we know, she's his accomplice." The second added smiling a humorless grin, "We know you don't want to believe it, but let's face it Shawn Spencer is a murderer."

Gus, fumed on the inside, and made a fist. He was about to attack the man beside him when suddenly Karen's voice shattered the short silence in the room.

"That's it!" She raged, her words loud in the quite room, "If either of you even _whisper_ another derogatory remark about _anyone_ in _my_ department, I swear to _god_ I will kill you myself." She paused, taking a deep breath. "_You_ are by _far_ two of the most disrespectful and unintelligent officers I have _ever_ seen. All you have done during this 'investigation' of yours is accuse _my_ officers and insult _my_ leadership."

"Chief—" The first Smith tried to interrupt.

"_Don't_." She stopped him, holding up a hand. "From this point onward, _you_ are to do _nothing_ more than observer. If you so much as _touch_ anything or anyone involved in this case, there will be dire consequences. Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster have solved every case that we have given them. If they say this is a frame, then it is. Do I make myself clear?"

"We—" The second Smith began.

"Yes or no, Mr. Smith." She informed him, her tone as cold as his eyes. "Do_ I_ make _myself_ clear?"

"Yes, Crystal." He replied begrudgingly as he looked her straight in the eyes.

"And you?" She asked his partner, swinging her gaze to the tall dark man.

"Yes." He responded, his eyebrows drawn together in resentment. The look in her eyes was the only thing that stopped him from disagreeing.

"Good." She finished turning her attention to the computer screen. "Where is he, Tom?" She asked her tone calm again as if her outburst had never occurred.

* * *

Shawn stopped the car, and looked at the entrance before him. He should have known they were coming here. Looking at the already open gates he realized that she must have been here earlier to open them, he didn't even want to know what she must have done with the guard. 

"Hurry up, Spencer." She ordered, pressing the gun harder against his temple. He grimaced at the pressure, his head was pounding and he suddenly felt dizzy again. Blinking his eyes he pressed the gas pedal down and slowly drove through the opening.

They traveled silently for a few minutes; he didn't even bother to ask where he should turn. He knew which runway they were going to. She had already brought him this far, she was apparently bringing him to the same place as before.

Soon they reached a very familiar airstrip, and he knew he had to do something. The police were coming. He was sure of that, he just wasn't sure if they would make it on time. He couldn't wait for them. He had to at least try to escape; he had to try to stall her.

Lindsay opened her door and got out, keeping her gun trained on him. Once she was out, she reached toward his door opening it slowly. Unexpectedly, he shoved against it hard. Slamming it into her with as much force as he could.

She stumbled backwards, cursing, her gun briefly trained elsewhere as she tried to stop herself from falling. Shawn saw his opening and lunged out of his seat. He flew through the air as time seemed to slow down, and he prayed that she wouldn't right herself before he hit. If she gained her balance before he had time to act, he was dead. Tackling her to the ground, he landed on top of her with a thud that knocked the air from both of their lungs.

Shawn gasped, as the landing put pressure on his wound, but he managed to raise himself slightly off her, so that there bodies weren't touching. By the time he had done so, Liekin had regained her equilibrium and began to struggle. Luckily the gun had skittered a few feet away, and it was now out of reach. Shawn reached and grabbed both of her hands, holding them above her head with his own.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, Lindsay." He whispered, looking into her hazel eyes from his position leaning over her. His face was even with hers just like it had been the night before he had gotten her arrested.

"No, Shawn, _I'm_ sorry." She responded, confusing him like she had intended to.

"Why?" He asked, but the subsequent head butt to the forehead that she provided was all the answer he needed. Shawn released her hands out of instinct and grabbed his forehead. The world was spinning; he closed his eyes against it. Falling sideways, he groaned as his aching body impacted the pavement. Rolling onto his back, he held his head as he tried to get himself to focus.

A second later agonizing pain erupted in his right side, as Lindsay's foot connected with him. He could feel the blood flowing again as the pain splintered outward through his body like a shock wave. His nerve endings felt like they were on fire, and the world started to go dim.

He could hear her grabbing the handgun off the asphalt as he tried to blink away the darkness. Squinting, he saw her standing above him with the gun pointed at his heart.

"I really do like you Shawn." She whispered, a sad smile on her face.

The next thing he heard was the sharp crack of her gun, and then all that he felt was fiery pain.

* * *

"It looks like he's at DRA Aviation…It's an—" Tom informed them, but he didn't get to finish because another voice interrupted him. 

"Airport." Lassiter supplied, mentally choosing the name of Spencer's kidnapper from his list of suspects.

"Okay, O'Hara you call the station and tell them what is going on, have them send us backup. We'll meet them there." Karen commanded, as she walked away from the computer.

Juliet pulled out her phone, intending to follow the Vick's order, when suddenly the screen caught her attention. The dot was gone. "Where did he go?" Juliet asked, her voice panicky. "Why is the dot gone?"

Karen Vick rushed back over and joined the others in there staring. Hoping that she had misheard Juliet, but she hadn't. The dot was gone…Shawn was gone.

"I don't know." Tom replied, his voice soft. "It could be a glitch in the system or something."

"I don't think so." Lassiter replied, his voice even. He knew that everything the dot disappearing could mean did not bode well for the 'psychic'.

"This can't be good." Gus whispered, his eyes clouded with worry as he crossed his arms in front of himself. "We have to go. _Now_." He announced stepping away from the computer.

"He's right, we don't have any time to waste. All we can do is hope that he'll still be at the airport when we get there." Karen informed them, and they all left the room quickly, realizing the truth in her words.

Tom remained in the room, staring in shock at the map in front of him, he didn't know what he had just witnessed, but he knew for a fact that something had gone terrible wrong. Closing the program, he sighed and placed his head in his hands.

**Cue Dramatic Music and Fade out (:D)**

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**Author's note: **Well there's the 7th chapter, I hope you guys all liked it. If you find any errors be sure to tell me, and definitely be sure to tell me what you think :D. 


	8. Clatto Verata Nicto

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here's chapter eight guys. All shall finally be made clear…or at least most shall be made clear lol.

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

* * *

**Chapter 8- "Clatto Verata Nicto" and Other Things Hostages Shouldn't Say**

Lassiter, Chief Vick, Juliet, and Gus all climbed into the car in relative silence. Only once they were in did anyone speak.

"So, you have no idea who has him Mr. Guster?" Karen asked from the front seat, her voice sounding strained. The stress of everything was catching up to her; she would have killed for this all to finally be over

"All I know is that it's a woman, he didn't have time to tell me more." Gus explained, leaning forward so that she could hear him better. The chief sighed in response, slouching down in her seat.

"I know." Lassiter monotoned, not looking away from the road and the rushing cars.

"What? Gus asked, thinking he had misheard the man. Maybe he had missed the all-important 'don't' in the sentence.

"How?" Juliet added not a second later, her voice belaying her confusion. Although the 'how' could have been asking any number of questions. How could he know? How did he figure it out? How did he manage to keep his hair looking so soft?

"Who is it, detective?" Chief Vick asked, sitting up in her chair, and focusing on his face through the shadows of the car. The headlights of passing vehicles slid across his features, allowing her brief glimpses of his nearly blank expression.

"Agent Lindsay Liekin." Carlton responded, glancing at her briefly before turning his eyes to the road again. He gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white with strain; he really hated that woman. He had never really liked her, even before he had known she was a thieving murder with a tendency to hold people hostage.

"I thought she was in jail." Gus said with his voice pitched slightly higher due to his confusion. How could she not be in jail, she had been arrested and the evidence had been as clear as day.

"She was released due to a procedural mistake in court, and now she is on probation pending another trial." He told them as he loosened his grip on the wheel, casually flexing his hands.

"That's why they're at the airport, it's where he ruined her plans." Juliet thought aloud, her eyes opening wide with the realization. She should have realized it was Liekin as soon as the airport had appeared on the map, she should have known.

"God Damn it." Gus sighed letting his head drop back against his seat, this day just kept getting better and better.

* * *

Shawn knew he was dead. What else could he be, she had shot him in the heart. She must have, that was where she had been aiming. Oddly enough though, everything still hurt. His side, his abdomen, his back…it all still hurt like Hell.

He had always figured that there would be no pain after death. He was a good person after all…he didn't deserve this, right? He always thought that there would be some sort of weightless feeling after death. Maybe even inner peace or numbness, and yet everything still felt like they had moments ago. Well actually, his side hurt quite a bit worse. Prying his eyes open, he snuck a glance at the angry brunette above him. She was aiming her gun at his leg. No…it wasn't his leg, her gun was pointed next to his leg.

There it was, or at least there it had been. Now all there was were shards of broken plastic and pieces of the destroyed SIM card. She hadn't shot him, although he knew she had meant to originally, she had shot the cell phone. It must have fallen out of his pocket after she had head butted him.

"But why did it hurt then?" He thought once he had pieced it all together. The answer came a moment later in the form of another swift kick to his side. Groaning, Shawn clutched at the place of impact. She must have kicked him earlier too, before she shot the phone. Either she had wanted to make sure he wouldn't use the phone's destruction as an escape tool, or she just really liked to kick him.

"Who's cell phone was that, Shawn. You left your's at your dad's house." Liekin asked, her face cold but curious. The gun was once again pointed at him.

"Ya know…I think that last kick was a little unnecessary." He informed her, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position, his side protesting the entire way. "I mean really, I'm pretty much down for the count here."

"I'm assuming it's Gus's." She surmised, glancing around after the words were spoken. "But why did you have it?"

"Why don't you tell me? You're psychic." Shawn grinned, but Lindsay's quick steps towards him wiped it off his face. "Or I could tell you…either works." He shrugged his shoulders stiffly, despite the ripple of pain it sent through his body. Maybe egging her on wasn't the best course of action at the moment…no matter how much he wanted too.

Lindsay was soon right next to him, her right hand holding a gun to the forehead that her left was pulling back sharply by the hair. Shawn grimaced, closing his eyes against the pain it caused. He hoped that she wouldn't pull it out. He had always prided himself on having nice hair, and to loose it like this…well it'd be nothing short of a tragedy.

"You tell me why you have the phone," She stated again, her no nonsense voice firmly in place. "or I kill you now…either works." She grinned, and he could tell she was proud of the play on his words. He on the other hand didn't think it was that clever; really she could have said so many other, better, things.

"That doesn't seem very fun." He told her trying to ignore the wooziness he was beginning to feel. Until that point he had almost forgotten that she had caused him to start bleeding again. He hoped the others had found out where he was before the phone got shot, otherwise he was on his own and the prospects weren't looking good.

"Oh really, what do you suggest then?" Lindsay smiled again, although this time it seemed genuine. She released his hair and took a step back. She was still pointing the gun at him, but things were starting to look up. He knew she had a bit of a soft spot for him, not much of one granted, but he could definitely use it to his advantage.

Slowly moving a hand up to his head, he massaged his poor mistreated hair follicles. He then blinked a few times, trying to remove the colorful dots from his vision. Having his head yanked back by his hair wasn't exactly the most comfortable experience even on a good day, and today was by no means a good day.

"I think," He paused, looking her in the eyes, "that I should get to ask you some questions." She frowned and even in the dim light of the airstrip he could tell she was going to say no. "I'll answer your's of course."

"How about I just shoot you and get it over with?" Lieken posed, raising her left eyebrow and pointing the gun at his heart. He knew she wouldn't do it yet, or at least he had a feeling she wouldn't. Shawn wasn't exactly an expert on revenge-bent, homicidal, one-night stands, but then again he had always been good at improv.

"You _could_ do that, but then you'll never know why I had the phone, or how I found out it was you." Shawn reasoned, grimacing slightly as another wave of pain ran through his body. "You have to be at least a little curious."

"Okay fine, tell me, or I shoot you." She ordered, still smiling, which honestly was a little disconcerting. Seriously, most people would be a little less happy at the prospect of shooting someone.

"You're starting to sound like a broken record, Liekin." Shawn replied flippantly. "_Obviously_ you plan to shoot me anyways, so it's not really much of an incentive."

Sighing in exasperation, she rolled her eyes, "You know…you are a terrible hostage."

"I try." He grinned again, fighting the urge to change positions. The ground was cold underneath him, and there was a particularly pointing rock jabbing him, but he knew moving would hurt more than the rock.

"Fine, I'll ask a question, and then you can ask one."

"Come on Linds!" He pleaded flamboyantly, even going as far as to clasp his hands together. "I'm already at enough of a disadvantage, the least you can do is let me go first." He'd even contemplated getting on his knees, but that idea had been vetoed once his aching body had made itself heard again.

"Fine." She smiled slightly, actually laughing for a moment, and he saw the woman he had glimpsed the night before she had been arrested. If only she wasn't homicidal and revenge-bent...she might have actually been a nice person.

"Sweet." He grinned half-heartedly, "Okay…what happened to the guard watching the gate?"

"That's sweet of you, Shawn, I thought you were going to ask how I did it." Lindsay commented, seeming almost light-hearted, possibly even joyful.

"Oh I already know that, what happened to the guard?" Shawn repeated, his eyes turning serious.

"He's just tied up in the security room." She paused, her face loosing its seemingly carefree appearance. "What do you think I'm, a monster?" She almost seemed to shake with the words, and he realized that she wasn't as calm as she had been acting.

Deciding not to reply for his own safety, he spoke again, his voice soft, "You're turn, Agent Lieken."

"Right." She sighed and ran her free hand down the front of her jacket, as if to smooth it out, in an attempt to compose herself. "How did you figure out that I framed you?"

"The spirits guided me." Shawn responded with his voice filled with as much mystery as he could muster. The shakiness caused by his body's slight tremors added a more paranormal tone to it, or at any rate he liked to think it did.

"_Really_ Shawn, I know you're not psychic." She rolled her eyes in exasperation and placed her left hand on her hip. "You can give it up already."

"Give what up?" He asked, his tone innocent and confused. His attempt sounded weak even to him, and he blamed it on Lindsay. His acting was not quite up to par because of his physical state, and his physical state happened to be her doing. Thus his acting sucked because of her.

"I saw you investigate the scene…I've been watching you ever since you went to the station on Friday." She told him, "You can stop the act now."

She had been watching him the entire time. She was there when he left the building on Friday. Suddenly, it hit him like an elephant on LSD. He had been wondering the entire time how she had gotten his stuff for the crime scene. The belt was easy; she could have just bought one similar to one he owned, but the patch, the one from his jacket, would have been harder to find. She couldn't have just bought one; most of them were from the eighties and nineties.

He would have know if she had been to his apartment, and he would have noticed if she had been to Psych. She must have gotten it some other way. Then it came to him, he knew how she had done it. He closed his eyes and thought back.

_They ran out the door, Gus carrying his heavier suit jacket over his shoulder, and Shawn holding his own decorative patch covered leather jacket over his arm. As they both fled the building, Shawn accidentally bumped into a brown haired woman walking past the station. He murmured a quick "Excuse me." and hurried to Gus's car. Not even stopping to help the woman pick up her glasses like he might have normally done._

It had been her. How could he have not recognized her, she had literally bumped right into him. That was how she had gotten the patch! She had pulled it right off his jacket and he hadn't even noticed.

* * *

Gus and Juliet sat in the backseat as Lassiter drove, and Karen occupied the passenger seat. The car was quieter than it had ever been. Each was trapped in their own thoughts, none of them knew whether Shawn would be there when they arrived, or even if he would _be_ at all.

Juliet clenched her fists and stared out the window, watching as the cars passed by with their bright lights and carefree drivers. None of them had to worry about whether their friend was dead at the moment; all they were trying to do was get home after a long business trip. At least she hoped that was the case, if everyone in those cars were on their way to save a hostage, then the world was way more screwed up than she wanted to believe.

If that bitch had done anything to Shawn she swore she would kill her. If she had so much as messed up his hair, she was going to die. Shawn may have been irritating on occasion, but she couldn't imagine what it would be like without him. If that woman had made her world Shawn-less, Juliet O'Hara would not be responsible for her actions.

* * *

Gus closed his eyes and tried to forget what was going on. It could all be a bad dream right? Shawn could be at the office playing a videogame, or in his apartment sleeping, he didn't have to be at an airport being held hostage. He sighed, opening his eyes again, but not really seeing.

Shawn had better be alive when they got there, or he would kill him. They'd been best friends for years, if Shawn thought he could back out now he was sorely mistaken. Gus would jump in front of Liekin's bullet himself if it meant Shawn would make it through this. Shawn would do the same for him, probably more actually. Gus was going to save him, or he was going to die trying.

* * *

Karen tried to keep her mind blank in preparation for what they might find. He might not even be there, or he could be dead. By the time they got there Shawn Spencer might be reduced to a mess on the runway. Shaking her head, she dispelled the unpleasant scene from her thoughts. He better be okay, she hadn't put up with him for this long just to see him go like this.

He deserved more than to die by a murder's bullet, he deserved to keep on living. If he was anything less than perfect by the time she got there, the woman had better pray that the other's stopped her. Although, Karen had a feeling that Lindsay Liekin wasn't the most popular person among those in the car. Maybe Liekin should wish that the other officers arrived before they did.

* * *

Carlton kept his eyes focused on the road. His job was to get them there, and then arrest Lindsay Liekin. His emotions couldn't get in the way, no matter how close to home it was hitting. Sure the guy had been apart of his life nearly everyday for the past 2 years, but that didn't mean he could get all…sentimental about it. Spencer was a pain that he was vying to get rid of, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself.

Spencer may have been an infuriating nuisance…actually there was no 'may' about it. He absolutely was an infuriating nuisance, but no matter what Carlton did he couldn't help but worry about the 'psychic'. If Shawn didn't make it, if he died out there tonight, Lassiter realized that he could possibly miss him. With that thought in mind, he pressed the gas pedal down a little bit harder, and swore to save the maddening man that he had been dying to get rid of since they had met.

* * *

"Spencer?" A voice interrupted his musings. "Shawn? Did you pass out? Because if you did I'm going to have to do something _really_ unpleasant."

Shawn's hands flew to the sides of his head, and he began to hum. The humming soon turned into words, "Clatto…Verata…Nicto." Although 'Army of Darkness' may not have been the most creative reference, it was the best he could come up with given the circumstances.

"What?" She asked, clearly not recognizing the words. Which was a good thing because although it was an excellent movie, quoting it probably would have taken away whatever psychic credibility he might have had with her. Unfortunately, she was pointing the gun at his head again, which Shawn brilliantly concluded was not all that great.

"I see a woman…a woman with brown hair." He announced, reaching out to her as if to feel her curls. He then opened his eyes to stare into her very similar ones. "It's you Lindsay."

"Riiiiiiiight." Liekin half-moaned, swinging her eyes up to the sky. "You're not psychic, Spencer, give it up."

Shawn began to mumble quietly, and he shook his head back and forth once or twice, as if he where trying to figure something out, "You're planning it all from your jail cell…you were in there for a while. They set a high bail because of the charges…Counterfeiting, conspiracy, murder."

"Sha—" She began, her voice still calm.

"After they let you out due to the mistrial you hired Samantha. You told her that I had cheated on you…that you just wanted to get back at me." Shawn intoned, his voice consistently the same pitch. His eyebrows drew together in concentration as he pieced everything he could together.

"You're not psychic." Lieken announced loudly, her voice taking on an almost insane quaver as she took another step towards him, bringing the gun and herself closer.

"After she had done her job…after you didn't need her anymore…you killed her." Shawn paused, his hazel eyes opening again, "There couldn't be any witnesses…didn't it matter to you that she was just an innocent girl?"

"Stop it. You don't know anything." Liekin growled, her eyes dark, and her knuckles white as she gripped the gun tighter.

"I _know _that it wasn't the police who shot me. It was you then, and later in the closet too. I_ know_ that you're the one who called me." He sharply declared, standing up despite his spinning head and aching body.

He felt like he was really going to pass out, as he stood there swaying for a moment. The world spun and his vision wavered as he tried to focus. Blinking a few times he dispelled the black dots that had been trying to take over. His head pounded and his side burned, everything else felt disconnected as if he was floating. If only the places that hurt could have been floating too.

Taking a shaky breath he tried to stop the tremor that was running through his feverish body. He was warm, so warm. The wind felt icy in comparison to his over heated body, and he almost welcomed it as it whipped by blowing Lindsay's brown curls around her face. Finally he was able to control himself as he took anther breath, he could finally focus again. He had to wait a little longer before he could pass out.

"…not real." She whispered her voice fierce, and he realized that he must have missed something while he had been barely holding onto consciousness. "You're not psychic! You don't know anything!" She yelled, stepping forward so that she was right in front of him, the gun pressed to his forehead once more.

Shawn closed his eyes, only half faking the moan that came before his words, "The spirits…they tell me that you stole the patch from my jacket, and..." His hand flew to his belt buckle, "...you remembered the belt I was wearing the last time I was here." He paused, ignoring the cold steel against his skin as his glassy eyes fluttered open to stare at her. "It was black with a silver buck. You bought another one, just like it."

"Not another word, or I shoot you now." She replied, pulling back the hammer on the gun. He heard it click menacingly, and he could almost see himself on the ground. He wanted to stop, he really did, but he knew she was going to shoot him soon anyway.

His plan now was to get her so worked up that she'd make a mistake. If she gave him a big enough opening he could act. A small lapse in judgment would be enough, but if he pushed her too hard, if he said the wrong thing, he was just another splatter on the pavement.

Dramatically, Shawn once again put his fingers to his temples, swaying as if he were about to pass out. "You knocked on her door…she let you in, the belt was behind your back." He paused taking a shaky breath, "Once the door was closed, you…" Shawn suddenly screamed. His voice, high pitched and loud, caused Lieken to flinch away for a moment. "You attacked her, you hit her with the lamp next to the door. It shattered, and she fell."

"Psychics don't exist." She whispered, her finger twitching on the trigger. Shawn's eyes opened once again, and he looked at the gun, but a second later he winced, letting his lids fall shut again.

"But she wasn't done yet, as you got ready to put the belt around her neck..." His hand reached out past Lindsay as if he were trying to pull himself along on the air, and her eyes grew wide as she gripped her gun harder. "She crawled to her writing desk and pulled out a drawer."

He paused again, grimacing, before opening his eyes and looking down at her jean clad legs. "You still have the bruise on your leg." Shawn guessed, not even completely sure if he was right. In response she stiffened, and her breath seemed to hitch, telling him that he was close enough if not spot on.

"Shut up!" She screamed, and he knew it was the end. She was going to shoot him. Pulling his eyes open, he stared into hers as she went to pull the trigger. The next thing he heard was a series of loud bangs and he was falling. It was done, and it didn't even hurt this time.

**TBC**

* * *

**Author's note**: Well there's the eighth chapter. I hope you guys like it. There is only 2 more after this :D Please review and tell me what you think.


	9. Hostage Situations

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Last chapter before the epilogue, I hope you all enjoy it. :) Sorry it took so long, life got really hectic. By the way there are alot of viewpoint changes going on in this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

* * *

**Chapter 9- Hostage Situations are like Deadly Football Games.**

Carlton slowed the car down as he neared the gates of DRA Aviation. Seeing the darkened guard station, he took his right hand off the wheel and grabbed the two-way radio from the cars equipment consol.

"This is detective Carlton Lassiter." He announced into the radio. "I need two officers to check out the guard station at DRA Aviation."

"Yes sir." Responded a crackly voice through the speaker. He nodded and placed the radio back in its holder.

"Why does the guard station need to be checked?" Gus asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"There should be a guard watching this place, and there isn't." The detective replied cryptically as he pulled through the gate. Everyone else in the car was silent as they drove towards the runway where they hoped to find Shawn alive.

Gus sighed, looking out the window at the guard station as it faded into the darkened surroundings. He hoped that the guard wasn't dead; enough people had died because of her, and the person in that building had nothing to do with this. He hoped that the guard was alive and well, and he also that Shawn was too. If Shawn wasn't okay, if she had already killed him, Gus didn't know what he would do.

Juliet tried to calm her nerves as they neared the runway. She was nearly shaking with anticipation and fear. What if he was hurt? What if he was dead? What if they weren't even there, and it was all a dead end? Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Everything would be fine.

Karen was completely silent on the outside, but her thoughts were going a thousand miles a minute. What if they were already gone? What if we are too late? Maybe it's not Liekin at all? We have no proof right now. What if Spencer is dead? We could have missed him by a minute or even a second. Why did she bring him here? Is it because this is where he revealed what she had done, or does she plan to leave? Would she take him, or is she just going to make her escape after he is out of the way. Does she know we are coming?

Carlton knew that in moments they would be able to see the runway, and if he were right Liekin and Spencer would be there. Hopefully, Spencer would be fine, but he doubted it. The man could drive a monk to murder; driving a murderer to murder would be a walk in the park. He just didn't know when to shut up. Carlton hoped that, for his own sake, Shawn had kept quiet and been a good little hostage. Oddly enough, he doubted that too. Shawn would jump of a cliff before losing a chance at making a joke. The man was doomed.

Pulling up to a runway that they had all been to before, Carlton stopped the car and threw it into park. All of the vehicles passengers looked out its windows, scanning the area for the man they where there to save.

"There they are!" Juliet cried, throwing open her door. Gus, Lassiter, and Chief Vick all followed suit as they too saw him.

* * *

"Mike?" The first Smith asked, turning his head slightly to look at his partner while he drove. It was dark, but he could still see his pale eyes looking at him.

"Yeah, Dan?" He replied, flicking his eyes over to the other officer as he ran a hand through his nearly monochrome hair.

"What if the kid really didn't do it? I mean, what if he is being held hostage." Dan replied, his dark eyes squinting into the passing headlights as he drove towards the airport. He could see the SBPD's car ahead of them, and he followed it as it turned onto an out of the way road.

"If he didn't do it, you mine as well start calling me your Highness…'cause I'm the queen of England." Mike replied, his voice smug. He knew he was right. They would get there, and they would find Shawn Spencer alive and well. He was not a hostage.

Three cars pulled up as they focused their attentions on the figures in the dark, but no one really seemed to notice the vehicles. One of the cars held the back up that Carlton had requested, and the other held everyone's favorite Internal Affairs officers. The Smiths got out of their cars and saw the scene before them. A quick look of shock passed over each of their faces as they too took in the scene.

"Your Highness." The first smith smiled grimly, bowing deeply. He used the move to pull his gun, and only seconds later he was ready to defend the man they had just seconds ago been condemning.

"Well I'll be damned." The second Smith whispered, pulling out his gun and pointing it into the darkness.

In the glow of the few lights dotting the area, two figures could be seen. One seemed to be slightly slumped, as if it where having trouble standing. The other was standing very close to the first, its body tense with an object pressed to the others forehead. A faint yellow outline highlighted each of them, showing what their viewers knew to be true. Lindsay Liekin was holding a gun to Shawn Spencer's head, and she didn't seem all that stable.

Karen and Carlton's took a few steps forwards as they pulled out their guns and pointed them at the pair. Juliet jumped out of the car and pulled her gun also, the move was swift and precise.

She slowed her breathing, and took a few steps closer to Shawn and his captor. The woman still hadn't noticed them, she hadn't heard the car, she didn't know she wasn't alone. Steadying her hand, she aimed her gun at Lindsay's back.

"Freeze!" She heard the first Smith yell, his voice seeming loud in the night.

"Drop your weapon!" She heard the second Smith add when Liekin didn't move. She didn't even seem to notice them as a vicious smile made it's way onto her face. The light reflecting off her teeth turned her into a macabre Cheshire cat.

Suddenly a car door slammed, breaking the silence like the voices hadn't, and time seemed to slow down.

* * *

Lindsay shook as she held the gun to his head. His eyes were wide as he stared into hers, and she knew she had to do this now. Pressing her finger tighter against the trigger she tried to steady her quaking hands. When she couldn't quell her livid trembling, she cursed and pressed the barrel harder against his forehead.

He barely grimaced, as he swayed once again. Grabbing a tight hold on his shoulder she moved her face closer to his feverish skin. She could feel the heat radiating off of him. Rubbing his stubbly cheek against her own as she slid her face against his, she placed her mouth to his ear as if she were whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

"Good bye, Shawn," she sighed softly into his ear as if her words were a breath. "We really could have been good together." She pulled away, the gun still to his head, and a harsh grin pulling across her face.

Suddenly, a loud noise broke the silence; whipping her head to the side she pressed her finger against the trigger.

Juliet watched as Lindsay turned to look for the sound. The cold eyes settled on her, and Juliet knew she had to act. One of them would have to shoot, and if Juliet didn't, Shawn was dead. "Please god let me not hit him." She begged silently as she pulled the trigger.

Gus, standing next to her, could only yell, "Shawn!" before a single gunshot rang out.

* * *

Lindsay cried out at the force of a bullet hitting her upper arm. It jerked in response causing the gun being held to Shawn's forehead to slam forward. It hit him, sending him sprawling to the ground, when he didn't move again she turned away from him. Looking to the officers staring at her with their guns drawn, she tried to pull her arm upward. It wouldn't respond to her commands. It was completely numb with shock, but she new it would hurt if she could feel it. Glancing at her arm, she saw that the bullet had only grazed her. She let her gun clatter to the ground. It was over;

Gus turned slowly to look at Juliet standing beside him. Her legs where set far apart, her arms where locked, and her gun was smoking. Jules had shot Lindsay. Flicking his eyes to the woman standing in front of Shawn, he watched as she stared at them. Her glare was deadly as her right arm hung loosely at her side, the silence was deafening.

"You can have him, I don't want him anymore." She announced, her eyes cold and her body tense. She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I surrender." She gestured with her left hand, while her right continued to hang half dead and useless.

"That's good to hear, Ms. Liekin." Karen replied taking a step closer her gun still drawn. "We need you to put your hands in the air and step away from Mr. Spencer."

Lindsay complied, at least partially. She placed her left hand behind her head and took three slow steps forward, leaving Shawn's unconscious body behind her.

"Both arms, Ms. Liekin." The first Smith told her, his gun trained on her still.

"I can't, I think my shoulder blade is broken." She informed him, her eyes pleading. "I really don't think I can move it."

Carlton looked towards Karen, and when she nodded he walked swiftly towards Liekin. With his gun still drawn, he reached her.

"Don't move." He ordered as he took another step towards her and lowered his gun slightly as he pulled out his cuffs.

* * *

Shawn groaned and shifted. His side was on fire, and so was the rest of him in fact. His head pounded, and he was so unbelievably warm. Groaning again he blinked and slowly reached a hand up to his forehead, feeling the stickiness of blood on his skin he sighed.

"It's better than being dead." He thought as he stared at the spinning stars above him. "Or not." He mumbled out loud, as his vision narrowed once again. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on his surroundings, but it all seemed so far away.

He heard loud voices and the clicking of shoes on pavement, but he couldn't tell what was being said, or where people where walking. Deciding that he should get up, he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position with his eyes still close.

He figured that the world couldn't spin if he couldn't see it. It was a theory similar to that of the world being flat. If they couldn't see that it was round, it wasn't. Apparently, he was just as wrong as ancient explorers because he still felt like he was on a ship as the earth pitched and moved under him. Once his dizziness eased, he slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the darkness and allowing his eyes to adjust. He saw shadows a few steps head of him, but he couldn't quite make them out.

Squinting, he realized that it was Lindsay closest to him. One hand was on her head and the other was hanging by her side. The other figure, was Lassie, he could see the man's slightly graying, but still very becoming, hair shining in the dim light. The detective said something about not moving, and at first, Liekin seemed to be complying. Shawn watched as she stood still while the detective pulled out his cuffs. As he turned to grab her hand from her head, her right arm twitched slightly.

"Maybe she has an itch." Shawn thought, but a second later he knew better. As Lassiter cuffed her left hand, her right slid into her coat pocket. Slowly she pulled it out again, and he saw the dull gleam of a pocket knife.

"Lindsay Liekin you are under arrest for the murder of Samantha Caine, and the—" Carlton began, but Shawn's voice interrupted him.

"Look out!" He cried, stumbling to his feet, but the dizziness caused him to fall over again.

Hearing Shawn's warning, he looked back at Lindsay and saw the knife rushing towards him. Letting go of her shoulder with his left hand, Carlton grabbed her wrist. She pushed against him, trying to send the knife plunging into his side. Her face was filled with fury, and her jaw was clenched tight. His own was strained as he tried to fight against her against adrenaline-fueled strength.

* * *

Every officer on the runway tensed, each one had their guns trained on the pair, but Lassiter was blocking them from hitting her. Karen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Turning towards two of the officers next to her, she said, "I need one of you on the left and the other on the right." Then turning to Juliet she continued, "Tell the Sergeants to cover the front, then you and I are getting behind them."

"What should I do?" Gus asked, his eyes flicking from Shawn, to the pair fighting against each other, and then to Karen's eyes every couple of seconds. He had to get Shawn out of there, but he had a feeling that getting any closer to the struggle would just put more lives in danger.

"You, Mr. Guster, should use the radio to call for an ambulance. He's not looking so good." The chief replied, nodding to Shawn's collapsed form. Gus nodded, and with one last glance towards Shawn lying on the ground, he sighed and pulled the door open.

* * *

He tried to twist her left arm behind her, but the knife she was holding nullified any leverage he had. Any move he made to try and incapacitate her seemed to bring the knife closer. He knew it was because she was using his divided attention to try and gain control, but he couldn't find a way to disarm her without getting punched, at least not with one hand.

He couldn't hold onto the handcuffs any longer, he needed both hands free. Dropping her left hand, he pulled his right arm back and punched her in the face. She stumbled backwards, but as he took a step closer, she ducked her head and ran forward, plowing into him. They both fell to the ground in a pile of arms and legs.

Only moments later Chief Vick and Junior Detective O'Hara where slowly moving towards Lassiter and his opponent. Juliet had a hard time focusing on being quiet, because nearly every time Liekin had the upper hand she had the urge to call out. She knew it wouldn't help, but that didn't mean she didn't want to warn him. Now that they were on the ground it was much harder to tell who was winning. Either one of them could get a hold of the knife and stab the other.

* * *

Carlton grinned as he rolled so that she was below him. His ribs ached from her entire mass slamming into him, but it didn't matter. Pulling his arm back he punched her again, it stung his knuckles as he repeated the action once more. He grabbed the knife, and not a second later she punched his aching ribs with her uninjured arm. Gasping, he doubled over for a second, but a second was all she needed.

Beaming, Lindsay rolled over, positioning her self above him with a leg on each side of his torso; with a flourish she grabbed the knife from his hand and raised her arm. As it sailed downward towards his chest, a sudden weight knocked her sideways causing the knife to miss its target and slide into his shoulder. She groaned nearly in time with the detective's own cry as the weight on top of her pressed against her injured arm. With her face to the pavement, and her arm burning like she had acid running though her veins, she had finally lost.

* * *

Juliet gasped as she saw Shawn stumble to his feet once more and take a running leap towards Lindsay, just as he hit, she heard Carlton cry out, and she knew that something was wrong. They had almost made it around to the back when Shawn had acted, although if he hadn't she had a feeling they would have been too late. She watched as Shawn sat on top of Lindsay's back. He pressed on her upper arm, where apparently the bullet had only grazed her as oppossed to breaking her shoulder blade like she had said, until she stopped squirming. He then seemed to sag himself as if all the energy had bene drained out of him. He looked to be trembling when he turned his head towards her, his eyes bright.

"Hey, Jules." He sighed, a small smile on his face. He slowly pulled himself off Liekin, each move taking longer than it should have. Juliet ran over to him, and crouched down, helping him pull himself into a standing position

Once they were both standing, she replied, "Hey, Shawn." with a smile and helped lead him to one of the cars.

* * *

Carlton groaned and sat up, staring down at the small knife in his right shoulder, he swallowed and grabbed the handle.

"Detective, you really shouldn't do that." Karen informed the man as she walked quickly over to him after telling the Smiths to watch Liekin.

"I have an arrest to make." He replied, a tight smile on his face. With a half stifled groan he pulled the blade out of his shoulder, thanking everything that was good in the world that it wasn't that big of a knife. Dropping the two and a half inch blade, he placed his left hand over the wound and stood up.

Karen sighed, "Have at it then." And stepped aside with a sweeping arm movement.

Walking over to still sprawled-out form of Lindsay, he knelt down and pulled both her arms behind her back. "Let's try this again." He announced, cuffing her quickly and pulling her to her feet, despite his shoulder's protest. "Lindsay Liekin, you are under arrest for the murder of Samantha Caine, the kidnapping of Shawn Spencer, and for assaulting a police officer." He held onto her cuffs with one hand as he began to march her towards one of the cruisers.

"You have no proof that I killed her." She announced, her eyes wide, and her voice high. She stood stock still, as if she were preparing to pounce. The sudden ringing of a cell phone behind her caused her to jump slightly, and shift her eyes looking for the source.

Pulling out the phone with his free hand, Carlton put it to his ear. "Lassiter." He stated, "What did you find?" He stayed quite for a few seconds listening to the voice's answer. "I thought as much. Good job, McNab." He replied, ending the conversation. Closing the phone, he placed his once again free hand on her shoulder.

"One of your fingerprints was found on Samantha Caine's murder weapon." He proclaimed smugly, pushing her into the squad car. "Just like I told you last time, Liekin, you really shouldn't touch the evidence." He smiled condescendingly, slammed the door on her less than kind replies and then walked off. He left her with O'Hara, who certainly didn't look happy with the job. He would have felt bad about leaving her with the likes of Liekin, but stab wounds mean one doesn't have to deal with angry confined criminals…or at least they do it Carlton Lassiter's book.

* * *

Shawn was leaning against one of the cars as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. Although he was still standing it didn't look like he would be for much longer.

"Are you okay?" Gus asked, watching his friend worriedly as he swayed slightly against the car. His eyes were bright with fever, and his skin was flushed and damp. Every time he blinked, he seemed like it would be the last time before he passed out, but so far he had stayed awake.

"Definitely. I'm fabulous, awesome, spiffy…quite peachy in fact." He replied a tired smile on his face.

"I'm serious, Shawn." Gus crossed his arms in front of himself and stared at his friend.

"What a coincidence! So am I." He smiled again, and then his face grew sober, "Really, Gus, I am. Lindsay's been caught, and I'm no longer a murder suspect, things are looking waaaaay better now than they were ten minutes ago."

"Physically, though, you're not going to die on me are you?" Gus asked, his voice slightly less stern. Shawn was right, everyone was alive, he'd been cleared, and Liekin had been caught. Things were looking pretty good.

"Not on you…that'd be kind of awkward. Don't you think?" Shawn grinned, successfully evading the topic as the world started to spin again.

With a sigh, Gus leaned against the car and smiled at his friend, "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back." Shawn added softly as he watched Lassiter walked over through half lidded eyes. "Hello there, detective." He smiled trying to still the world; he would have nodded at the man if he hadn't thought the action was going to endanger his precarious balance.

"I wanted to say thank you, Spencer." Lassiter responded, as he shifted uncomfortably. Crossing his arms in front of himself, he looked at Shawn's eyes and saw that they were half glazed.

"No problem, Lassie." Shawn smiled, his voice low. "I couldn't have let the department loose their favorite police dog now could I?" He blinked again, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Swaying slightly again as he smiled and leaned against the car more than he had been previously.

"I wish I would have let the department loose their favorite psychic." Carlton muttered rolling his eyes, but when Shawn visibly paled, he took a step forward and asked, "Spencer? Are you okay?"

"Shawn?" Gus turned to his friend putting a hand on his shoulder, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I thin'…I'm goin' ta pass ssout now." He slurred just as ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance. Right on queue, he slid sideways and would have hit the ground if Lassiter hadn't stepped forward and caught him. He lowered the 'psychic' to the ground, and looked up at Gus.

"Go tell the chief what happened, tell the ambulance where he is when it get's here." Lassiter ordered, as he adjusted Shawn on the ground. Seeing a stain on the man's shirt, he put his hand to it and felt that it was wet. Without a second thought, he quickly unbuttoned the shirt and peeled it back to show a completely red soaked bandage. "Hurry."

Gus knelt down quickly, and whispered, "Hold on, Shawn." into the unconscious man's ear before running towards Karen with his heart racing.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Well there is the last chapter before the epilogue. I hope you enjoyed it :D Please review, and tell me what you think.


	10. I'm Blinded

**Title:** Mind over Murder

**Author:** greenrandomness

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Violence

**Summary:** A woman Shawn goes on a date with accuses him of stalking her a month later. When the woman is found dead, Shawn is the police department's only suspect and the evidence just keeps piling up against him.

**Authors Note:** Here's the epilogue folks! It's all over now. :D

**Disclaimer:** Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

* * *

**Chapter 10- I'm Blinded by the…Hideous Lime Green Hawaiian Shirt?**

Shawn couldn't see anything; his eyes didn't want to open, but he could hear everything. The sirens, the cars, the voices, he could hear it all; he just couldn't do anything about it. He didn't have the energy to do anything more than lay there and listen, and even that as a stretch. His head pounded with each breath, and the cold air on his feverish skin felt fantastic. Everything felt shaky and weak as he tried to concentrate on what was going on.

"He has some serious bleeding here." An unfamiliar voice announced. Shawn groaned as the man pulled up the bandage. "It looks like the wound is infected."

"When was he shot?" Another asked, her voice seeming far away as if she where down a long tunnel.

"A-a-about a day ago." Gus's voice replied softly, his words were unsteady with panic.

"Finally!" Shawn yelled internally, "Someone I know." He tried to say something, but all his lips could form was a muffled groan.

"It's okay, Shawn, calm down." A soft voice told him, a hand resting on his forehead soon joined it. 'Juliet' was the name that his brain supplied, and he sighed contentedly as her cool hand soothed his aching head.

"We need to get him to the E.R." The first voice told someone, and they all must have agreed because a second later he was moving.

He felt his world shifting, and suddenly he was hovering. The brief sensation ended when he felt himself being set back down again. Although they had tried to be gentle, he still moaned as the jolt set his side on fire.

"Give him ten milligrams of morphine." The woman told the others. Shawn felt the needle slide in, heavenly warmth followed. He heard the doors start to close through his drug-induced haze, but something stopped the door before it could click closed.

"I'm coming." Gus's voice announced, although Shawn was having trouble focusing on the voices, let alone the words they were actually saying.

"Then get in here, kid." A gravelly voice from the front of the vehicle ordered. Shawn could hear Gus climbing in beside him only seconds later. The feeling of weightlessness increased, as the world seemed to float further away

"Just a little longer, Shawn." Was the last thing he heard as the noises of consciousness finally faded away. He never heard the sirens as blissful nothingness enveloped him.

* * *

_Beep _

_Beep_

_Beep_

Was the only sound that met Shawn's ears as the world opened up to him again. Groaning, he flung his arm over the side of the bed to try and hit the snooze button. When his hand met nothing but air, his brain realized that something wasn't quite right. Rolling over slightly, he pried on of his eyes open and looked around.

The sterile white and pastel blue environment was definitely not his room. The only things brightening the place up were two bunches of balloons in the corner, and a vase of flowers on the windowsill. The eerie quiet, punctuated by the steady tone of a heart monitor, just screamed hospital. It screamed it so loudly that he was surprised that no one had complained about the noise yet. The uncomfortable bed gave it away too, he decided as he shifted slowly, being reminded of his injury when it ached.

So he was in a hospital…but which one. That was the problem with the hospitals, they all looked the same, even to the hyper observant. Swinging his eyes around, he finally located something he recognized. His father.

The man was seated in a chair on the right side of the bed. He hadn't seen him before because he had only looked to his left for the alarm clock that would had been there had he been at home. Shawn turned carefully to look at his dad.

He looked, worn and worried. His skin was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Obviously, he had been here for a while given the state of his rumpled, utterly hideous shirt and wrinkled shorts.

Henry Spencer was leafing through a magazine, obviously not reading the articles, when Shawn's throat clearing interrupted his not-reading.

The man looked up, his eyes suddenly bright. "You're awake." He half whispered, his voice slightly scratchy.

"Were you at the track when I was on the run, or did you just want to blind me when I woke up?" Shawn asked with mock seriousness, and a brief gesture indicating the horrendous lime green Hawaiian shirt his dad was wearing.

"For your information," Henry frowned, dropping his magazine onto the side table and crossing his arms. "I was in the shower when the hospital called, it was the first thing I could find." He explained with a voice that had lost the happily shocked tone it had held only seconds before.

Shawn cringed, throwing a hand over his eyes, and started to moan. He withered on the bed slightly, and tossed his head backward as if in great pain.

"Shawn? Shawn?" Henry asked, jumping up and standing next to his son. "What is it? Should I call the doctor?" He reached for the nurse call button, and pressed it quickly, hoping they would hurry up.

"Why?" Shawn pleaded, his voice tormented and shaking, as if he were about to start sobbing.

"Why what?" Henry asked, pausing in his panicking, and looking down at his son in confusion.

"Why, oh, why did you have to give me the mental image of you in the shower?" Shawn asked, dropping his hand from his face and grimacing. "I mean really, are you trying to traumatize me?"

"Shawn." Henry ground out through clenched teeth, but before he could say more he turned away and took a deep breath. Looking at his son again, he gruffly replied, "I think I like you better when you are unconscious."

"That's just harsh, dad." Shawn grinned, sitting up slowly, just as the nurse walked in.

"Do you need something, Mr. Spencer?" A tall brunette with her hair pulled back into a bun asked Henry, but a second later her eyes took in Shawn sitting up in the bed. "Oh, you're awake."

"I am?" Shawn asked his dad, mock astonishment in his voice. Henry snorted, and crossed his arms, which lead Shawn to believe that he wasn't going to answer. Turning back to the beautiful nurse, he nodded his head, "I am."

"I'll go and tell the doctor." She replied with a big smile and began to walk away, but as she did so Shawn's hands flew to his temples.

"Wait!" He cried, reaching a hand out to her. "I'm seeing you…you're…you're…walking back over to my bed."

"What?" She asked, walking back over just as he had foretold. He threw his head from side to side and started to hum 'Sexy Back'. "Is he okay?" She whispered, looking at Henry with wide eyes. She was about to go and get the doctor when he answered.

"He's having a 'vision'." Henry replied, rolling his eyes and standing up. With a stretch, he sighed. After one last glance at his son he turned toward the closet.

"A vision?" She asked, her voice soft with awe as his hand suddenly shot off the bed and into the air, his other hand began to move as if it were writing. Slowly they moved closer together, and finally he was pantomiming writing on his own palm.

"Yes. A vision!" Shawn interrupted, opening his eyes and first looking at his hands before looking at her. "I saw you."

"Me? What was I doing?" She asked as Henry walked to the closet. He slid the door open and grabbed his jacket off a hanger. Closing the door, he slipped it on quickly.

"You were writing something on my hand." He paused as if in contemplation. His right hand flew to his temple as he closed his eyes. "It was a number…your phone number!"

"You had a vision of me giving you my number?" She responded slightly skeptical, her voice hinting at her disbelief. Henry shook his head and then continued walking in the direction of the other end of the room.

"My visions are never wrong." He proclaimed, holding his hand out to her. With a laugh she shrugged and grabbed a pen off the side table, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to comply with his 'vision'.

"I wouldn't want to ruin your track record." She laughed again and smiled as she began writing her phone number on his hand. By the time she finished, Shawn's father was already at the door.

"You'll never learn." He sighed, rolling his eyes and walking out into the hallway.

At his dad's word's Shawn's head shot up, and he looked at the man's retreating figure. "Never learn what?" He asked, "What are you talking about? Dad? Dad? I know you haven't left." He sat up straight and tried to look around the doorframe from the bed, "Dad?"

_**Fin**_

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* * *

**Author's Note: **That's the end guys! I hope you enjoyed it. Please tell me what you think :D 


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